


Mark of a Civilization

by laury84, Titlark



Series: Mark of a Civilization [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Disability, Eventual Relationships, F/M, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2020-05-13 17:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 47
Words: 138,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19255612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laury84/pseuds/laury84, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titlark/pseuds/Titlark
Summary: It was the year 2639 when NASA searched for volunteers for a mission to reconnect with a long lost once inhabited planet. Finally, two men were chosen among many candidates - captain Brian May and an engineering officer John Deacon. They do not expect to find anything but a dead world, if they're lucky.Perhaps they will get much more than they bargained for, thrown on a dangerous path, battling for much more than just their lives.





	1. Previously on Earth

Ever since the first man in space, all scientists who had ever raised their eyes to the sky have asked themselves the same question – is Earth truly that unique, or is there another planet hospitable enough for humanity to survive on? It was the year 2140 when the NASA's attention focused on the, until then unremarkable, binary star in Messier galaxy.  
The bigger star of the system was orbited by a planet with an atmosphere containing the right ratio of nitrogen and oxygen. Space probes were sent immediately, and NASA’s hopes were confirmed. Therefore, in 2169 the first man - astronaut Brian Epstein together with his navigator John Reid - took their first steps on the surface of the new planet. The duo confirmed Earth's wildest hopes: it was indeed possible to survive on the planet.  
A space fever immediately broke out on Earth, all nations invested more than generously into new and advanced spaceships, which shortened the journey to the new planet to a mere year and a half of Earth time. In ten more years, there was nearly a million new inhabitants on the planet. That planet perhaps used to have a different name but was now known to everybody as Queen.  
Unfortunately, while the Queen civilization flourished, the one on Earth was facing dire times. An enormous economic crisis broke out, which led most of the developed world to the very bottom of existence. Under these circumstances it was simply not possible to send any new spaceships. Contact with Queen was discontinued, more so with the break out of World War III, which lasted for long years and led Earth to a state of utter devastation which lasted for decades.  
It took hundreds of years for the Earth people to even begin to think about a connection with the planet, which was by then just little more than a legend. All the signals sent from Earth were met with no response, all probes got lost. The Messier galaxy was nicknamed “The Intergalactic Bermuda triangle”.  
After long negotiations, a spaceship with a living crew was sent to figure the situation out. After a year and a half of journey, Earth got a message – the astronauts got to Queen, landed safely, atmosphere was breathable, radiation in normal range and all machines were working perfectly. And then – silence. This mysterious fiasco led most people to believe the planet Queen was indeed a lost world. But despite the protests of experts, in the year of 2639 another ship was sent with two volunteers on board: captain Brian May and engineering officer John Deacon.


	2. Ne’er looked back, feared occasionally

“Official on-board recording, day 512 since takeoff,” captain Brian May announced and leaned back in the chair, so that his face would fit in the video. For a second, he allowed his eyes to wander away from the camera. He looked out through the thick cockpit window, admiring the darkness of the Universe, just here and there interrupted by the seemingly motionless flickering lights of faraway stars. The only substantial object was the binary star system Alba-Almira, right in front of them. Their destination.  
“It’s exactly 6 am CET, all systems checked and working, air pressure 1013,30 hPa,” he forced himself to look straight into the camera again and smiled a little, “during the night nothing out of the ordinary happened. Detour manoeuvre forced upon us by an asteroid field, which was mentioned in report 498, has concluded successfully, so...,” he allowed himself a less formal tone, “the autopilot is back on and we’re heading right to the correct coordinates again. For scientific purposes and later research, samples of local asteroid dust have been collected, which we're really excited about, John and I both,” he turned to his friend, “.... John?”

John Deacon, in fact, couldn’t really be described as incredibly excited. He was sleeping soundly, firmly buckled up in his seat, his head gently swaying in zero gravity.  
Brian sighed, turned off the camera, unbuckled himself and floated through the cockpit to shake John’s shoulder gently.

“Deaky?”

John’s eyes snapped wide open. “What-“

“Shhh, relax,” Brian smiled and held his armrest to keep himself steady. His long curly hair was creating a halo around his face in the weightlessness. “It’s morning.”

John just raised an eyebrow and looked on the invariable image of space outside. “Oh, is it?”

After almost year and a half Brian knew better than to reply to John’s omnipresent sarcasm, so he simply waited till his engineering officer woke up enough to have an actual conversation.

“Anything interesting happened?” Deaky asked after rubbing his eyes.

Brian shrugged. “Not really, I just made a report. All systems seem to be fully functional. Pressure, temperature, water recycling, waste removal... Breakfast?”

John nodded. “Please.”

The captain flew to the storage cupboard to return with two aluminium tubes filled with highly nutritional protein paste, while Deaky logged into his computer to make some additional calculations.

“After all,” he mumbled as he took his food from Brian and started sucking it out of the tube, “all the problems are supposed to start after the landing, aren’t they?”

“Aren’t you cheery today.”

“Anyway,” Deaky gave his breakfast another hesitant slurp, “whatever we find there, I really hope it’ll be better than this pigswill.”

Brian couldn’t but share the wish, if not the hope.  
A notification from the autopilot suddenly popped up on screen. Both friends leaned in immediately and Brian’s eyes shone with excitement.

“We´ve been caught by the gravitational pull,” Deaky whispered, “we did it.”

“Oh God,” Brian ran a hand through his hair, “we did it.”

“The computer says it’s some three hours till landing!”

Deaky nearly jumped with excitement and hugged his friend firmly. “Bri! Bri we did it!”

Suddenly he froze and pulled away slowly.

Brian frowned. “What is it?”

“The previous expeditions,” John reminded, “they got this far as well. And then...”

“Yeah...,” Brian nodded slowly and sat back into his chair, breakfast forgotten, floating in the air, “well... what do you think is there? Unstable surface, perhaps?”

“Unlikely. The previous group landed safely, they even managed to send a report that everything was ok.”

“Radiation, poisonous gas or something?”

Deaky shook his head again. “The machines would have detected that.”

“There’s something weird on the planet,” Brian concluded and straightened himself subconsciously to look even taller, a slightly fanatical spark in his eye, “and I’ll find out what it is.”

“More like we’ll find out,” John corrected him.

“We’ll find out,” Brian agreed.

They sat in stony silence for a while, lost in thought, looking towards the future that was surrounded in the mystery they both spent years thinking about. And now... in few a hours... they’ll know for sure.

“Bri?” John mumbled inaudibly.

“Hm?”

“I...,” he shivered, “I don’t like this.”

“What exactly?”

“Well... all this!” Deaky spread his arms. “How smoothly everything is going! Exactly like the last time! What if we’re walking into the same trap?”

“We’ll know soon,” Brian replied coolly, “no worries. We’ve got the best Earth could provide us with.”

“Unfortunately, made by those who offered the lowest possible price.”

“You’ve always been a pessimist, haven´t you?”

Deaky chuckled involuntarily. “All these years we have know each other and you’re asking me that now?”

Brian smiled as well and took John’s hand.

“We’ll be alright,” he said, to reassure both John and himself, “we’ll be alright,” he repeated, much more quietly this time, a funny feeling clenching his chest.  
We’ll be alright...


	3. It’s a Hard Land

Three hours later John called Brian back to the cockpit.

“We’re going in for the landing.”

Brian nodded, got seated and buckled up. Both men were already dressed in light space suits and everything in the cabin and out of it was secured and fastened.

“Hey, biscuits,” John pointed out when a small silver package flew right around Brian’s head. The captain put it into his pocket impatiently.

The planet itself didn't look like a small dot anymore - it now took up almost all the space in front of them, seemingly getting bigger and bigger still. Through the thick pinkish atmosphere nothing of the surface could be seen.

“Do you think there will be people?” John asked quietly.

“I sincerely doubt it. So...,” Brian's eyes were fixated on his monitors, hands above a touchscreen, “...let’s go, shall we?”

John looked at him, his eyes firm. “Let’s go.”

With one brief nervous sigh Brian turned off the autopilot and focused on leading the ship into a smooth landing manoeuvre. A pull of the activated additional engines threw everything sharply forward and then back immediately, as they entered the atmosphere.  
They could only watch with bated breath as their computer supplied them with rapidly changing data. The temperature on the ship’s surface was now more than 1800 degrees and rising rapidly. If there was any small defect in the coating, they would quickly burn alive.

All the engines worked on maximum now, the speed was decreasing.

“How does it look?” Brian shouted without even realising. He felt like his eyes were being pushed deeper into his head by the sudden gravitational pressure.

“Dry land!” Deaky screamed back. “You open the parachutes when I tell you, ok?” His gaze was glued to an altimeter. “Here it goes... one... two... NOW!”

A small metallic sound and a forceful tug, which made them want to vomit all their insides, suggested the parachutes had been released and opened correctly.

“The landing engines are on full power now, we’re like ten thousand meters from the surface,” shouted Deaky over the noise of the engines, “it looks like the land's shining!”

“We need to risk it, no choice anyway!”

“We’re going too fast!”

“No shit!”

“Three, two, one-“

There was an enormous terrifying bang... and then silence. Deafening silence.

Brian and John were both still strapped in their seats, too shocked and nauseous to move. A small stream of blood was gushing from Brian’s bitten lip.

“We've landed,” he peeped, voice about two octaves higher than usual.

Ash-grey and still staring blindly right in front of him, John nodded. “Yeah.”

They could see nothing from the window, being half buried in the ground.  
It took several more minutes until Brian put himself together enough to check their computer’s data.

“The ship seems to be doing alright,” he announces, “at least considering the circumstances. All systems are operational.”

“And outside?”

“Atmosphere breathable, surface firm. UV rays and radiation in the norm. Temperature 28 degrees Celsius, wind 1,3 meters per second from north-west.” Brian looked at John and added, little unsure: “All seems... fine.”

John took his time to come up with an answer. “There’s nothing more we can discover from here. We need to have a look outside.”

“I’ll go,” Brian decided immediately. “You stay here for the moment and keep an eye on the parameters, if anything changes.”

“Take a helmet and an oxygen tank,” John adviced, “I know the machine says “breathable” but we don’t have sensors for everything and God knows what sort of crap can be out there.”

So this is it, Brian thought as he put on his helmet. He could literally hear his heart pounding in his chest. After years of waiting... He’d find out what happened to this planet. He might die, but he would die knowing it. And that’s what really mattered. That’s what had always mattered to him the most. Deaky called it suicidal curiosity.

“All set?” John’s voice asked from the intercom in Brian’s helmet and tore him out of his thoughts.

“All set,” Brian confirmed.

Both astronauts held their breaths when John remotely opened the pressure door.  
The sudden light from outside almost blinded Brian as he made his first step outside, eyes teary.

John listened to the silence, getting more and more nervous.

“Brian? Brian are you there, can you hear me, Brian!”

Brian stood outside of the ship, looking around, a feeling of absolute awe embracing him completely. He couldn’t but smile brightly, all words stuck in his throat. So amazing... incredible...

“Brian, for fuck’s sake, answer me right this instant or I swear to God-!”

“I’m here, Deaky,” Brian snapped back into reality. “Hearing you nice and clear.”

“Good,” John answered dryly, “let’s try to keep it that way. What do you see?”

“John... this is bloody unbelievable,” the excitement in his voice was almost palpable, “this is more than... than we ever imagined, this is magical, John!”

There were several seconds of silence, as if John were asking God for patience to deal with that silly poodle. He was this close to getting out of the ship himself to have a look around the place they worked so hard to reach. He had to use all his self-control to stay put.

“Would you care to specify a little, Bri? I need to put it into our report.”

“Oh, ok...” Brian looked around more carefully, “there’s desert everywhere around us. The sand is sort of green, as well as the clouds. Well, those are sort of blue-ish.”

“So... turquoise?”

“What?”

“Turquoise. The colour between blue and green.”

“Deaky, had I studied interior design, I might just tell you. It’s between green and blue. And the sky is blue. Blue blue. Normal very blue.”

John chuckled while his captain walked around their ship slowly, until he suddenly froze in his tracks.

“Oh my God, John!”

“What? What is it? Are you ok?”

“You just... yes, yes, I’m fine, but... this looks... there are solar panels here, John. Hundreds, thousands of them! You need to come out and see this!”

That was all the persuasion John needed to rocket into his space suit and out of the ship.

Brian wasn’t kidding. They were standing at the edge of some kind of solar panel field – a silver, glistening surface of shining metal ran all the way to the horizon. John had to avert his eyes from all the light.

“Well, it makes sense they used to get electricity this way,” Brian thought, “considering the location of this planet in relation to the binary nature of the Alba-Almira star, it's never night here. Interesting...”

“Bri?” John’s voice sounded suddenly anxious again.

“Yes?”

“It is interesting, but... Now I care a bit more about that thing over there.” He pointed the opposite direction and up to the sky.

Brian gasped. “Is that...? No, no, it can’t be...”

John didn’t even nod, he simply took Brian’s hand in silence, as they both watched the helicopter heading directly towards them.


	4. Desert Rendezvous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no Freddie or Roger here, but they'll be coming soon. In the meantime, there are some other familiar faces you'll surely be more than happy to see ;-)  
> I'm sure you forgive me that this chapter is a bit longer than the previous ones, as I'm trying to get the plot going more fluently.  
> Have a great day and as always, I appreciate all the thoughts, remarks, ideas or death threats you can give me.

“Good God...,” Brian whispered, as they watched the helicopter land just some ten meters away from them, stirring the green sand. The machine was thin, golden, and if it weren’t for the wind and noise, Brian would bet it was just some hallucination his sick brain came up with.

He exchanged a quick glance with John and both took their helmets off, discovering they could breathe normally. The air was strangely dry and hot.  
At the same time a man stepped out of the helicopter and headed straight towards them, a wide smile on his face.

“Welcome, gentlemen, to Queen!” He spoke with a very strange accent, but they could still understand him well.

Brian and John exchanged another look, both lost for words, hoping for the other one to say something.

When the man realized he wasn’t getting an answer any time soon, he simply continued: “This is quite an unusual situation for us. We’re not getting guests from space every day. My name is Ray Foster, envoy extrordinary of RISUGI.”

It took another long moment for Brian’s brain to get back on track. The landing, the solar panels, the helicopter and this man with his smile and casually polite behaviour – everything about this was simply surreal!  
Then he realized Foster was once again quiet, waiting for an answer.

“We’re very pleased to meet you, sir,” he said, “I’m Brian May, captain. And this is my colleague-”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Foster said without letting him finish the sentence, like he didn’t actually care, “please, follow me on board, both of you. Everyone in the city is excited to get a glance at you.”

John frowned. “What about the ship?”

“You don’t have to care about that,” Foster replied, “our team of experts will take care of it.”

Neither John nor Brian liked the answer very much. They exchanged worried glances again, before the captain just shrugged as if saying: Do we actually have a choice here?  
Foster either didn’t notice or didn’t care for their uneasiness and led them into the helicopter.

Brian felt his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the green desert go by underneath them. Nothing else could be seen. He was worried, of course, but also excited, overwhelmed and stunned, tired and thrilled – he would scream and whoop and dance around if he could.  
Wasn’t this just so utterly fascinating? People! Actual living people here!

He smiled at John, who was sitting quietly at the opposite side of the helicopter, watching his own hands laying motionless in his lap. Brian wished he could say something to comfort him and discuss this whole situation, but he was hesitant with Foster sitting right next to them. He had a more thorough look at their guide, the “envoy extraordinary” whatever that meant. He was heavily built man in his fifties with a round face and short ginger hair. His clothes were made from some strange foreign fabric and looked like a uniform. Light blue, prim and without any decorations, except some golden double helix on the left side of his chest, along with an inscription “RISUGI” embroidered underneath it.  
Brian was getting nervous from Foster’s fixed gaze, so he just closed his eyes for awhile and enjoyed the wind from an open window as it ran through his hair. God, how he had missed this feeling...

“So this desert covers the whole planet?” John asked suddenly, finally taking a peep outside.

Foster nodded. “Most of it. Except for our plantations. And the poles are covered with ice.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a problem with drinking water this way?”

“There are extensive underground sources,” Foster turned to him, “but current population makes do with the polar one.”

“What’s the population here anyway? On the planet?” Brian was getting curious while John retreated to watch his hands again. He was never really good with new people, especially under circumstances like these.

“After your arrival,” the envoy answered, getting somewhat bothered by the questions, “it makes exactly ten million and two.”

Brian chuckled. “Exactly ten million?”

“Quite,” Foster assured him, not a trace of humour in his voice. “Our records are meticulous.”

Something in his tone made Brian give up on asking more questions, so he turned back to the window instead.

After two hours of silent and monotonous flight they finally reached the city and Brian couldn’t say it made a great impression. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t see any green grass, trees, or anything like that. There were just houses, bigger or smaller, all in the matching tones of old grey concrete. The only exception was one huge white building right in the centre – and they were heading towards it. The sight created the same sense of awe as that of a cathedral in the middle of a village. There was a golden inscription all along the building’s length:  
REID’S INSTITUTE FOR SAFE USE OF GENETIC INFORMATION

John got up from his seat to sit next to Brian and whispered: “What do you think...?”

“I don’t know,” Brian admitted and tried to supress the nervousness that was clear in his voice.

“The name, Reid,” John reminded, “sounds familiar.”

“He was one of the first who got here all those ages ago, in 2169. Mission Neworld. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

“It looks like they have respect for him,” Deaky wondered, “that could be good for us, right?”

Brian nodded. “Maybe.”

They both sat for a while in an uncomfortable silence before John asked: “What happened to him anyway?”

“He stayed here on Queen with the first colonists,” Brian replied immediately, “Epstein returned to Earth.”

In the meantime, the helicopter went in for a landing and smoothly touched down on a pad on the roof of the mysterious Institute. At least ten people in the same blue uniforms Foster was wearing ran to them immediately. The envoy extraordinary gestured for the astronauts to follow him.

“What is this place?” Brian asked when the whole party walked into the building and down a corridor. It was white and looked either new or thoroughly maintained.

“An institute for safe use of genetic information.”

He frowned but kept his polite tone. “I know, but what do you mean by that?”

Instead of answering, this time Foster stopped in front of one of many doors, opened it and stepped aside, so Brian and John could enter first.

“Please, be seated,” he gestured. “We should get refreshments in a minute.”

It looked like a normal though luxuriously equipped office, walls colourfully painted, furniture made of some shiny metal bent into avantgarde shapes. Foster took a seat behind a massive desk while Brian and John sat side by side on a padded, yet quite uncomfortable sofa in front of it. 

“So...,” Foster put his hands on the table and entwined his fingers, “once again, welcome to Queen and to our Institute.”

“Thank you,” Brian smiled politely, “I have to say, it’s very impressive.”

John simply nodded.

“Forgive me for asking,” Foster continued, “but how much exactly do you know about Queen?”

“Everything there was to know about it until the contact was lost,” Brian answered honestly.

The door clicked, and a young woman entered, carrying a tray with three tall glasses. She offered one to Foster, to Brian and to John and then disappeared again.

“You must understand,” Foster continued like he wasn’t interrupted at all, ignoring his drink for now, “a lot of things took place since Queen claimed its independence.”

“That’s understandable,” Brian nodded.

“It was just fifty years after the separation when it happened.”

Foster went silent, forcing John to ask: “What happened?”

“An asteroid happened,” the man replied.

Brian and John exchanged glances. On John’s face there was a mix of surprise and concern, but Brian couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy over finally getting answers about what people of the Earth could only speculate about.

Foster continued: “An asteroid hit the planet and deviated it from its axis slightly. It had terrible consequences. The majority of what our ancestors managed to build was gone, all the crops from Earth extinct, and just about under a hundred people survived. I suppose you can see the problem now.”

Brian felt like he was doing nothing aside from exchanging glances with John lately, but he did it again anyway.

“Eh...,” John sounded slightly unsure, “not really. We saw the city, your technology, this office and you apparently aren’t dying of hunger, so... people managed.”

“Please, do drink,” Forster smiled and gestured to their untouched glasses. 

Brian looked at it - the liquid was transparent but seemed a bit slimy. Not a very appealing sight.

John apparently shared his opinion, because he asked: “What is this drink anyway?”

“An extract of Viridis algae,” Foster answered. “That also answers the question how our ancestors haven’t starved after the catastrophe. This weed is the only plant which managed to survive. So, we cultivate it and grow it in profusion.”

“On the plantations.”

“Exactly. Please, drink with me.”

Brian really didn’t want to offend their host, so he took a sip. It tasted like nothing, perhaps a little bit salty, which was a relief. And after landing in a desert and spending hours in the helicopter it was quite refreshing. Brian emptied about a half of his glass in two gulps, John by his right side did the same.

“So, what was the problem?” Brian asked.

“You see,” Foster hesitated a little, “there’s ten million of us. No less amount of people would manage to get the society going and cover all its needs. But we all are descendants of those few survivors, do you understand now?”

Brian had to admit to himself he was still in the dark and his head felt somewhat hazy.

But John suddenly nodded. “Inbreeding, right?”

Foster frowned. “We prefer the term consanguinity. But basically you’re right. It was clear after three or four generations. Increased levels of radiation also did their part back then.”

Brian wanted to say something, but a wave of nausea stopped him from doing so. Instead he gripped an armrest tightly and prayed he wouldn’t vomit on Foster’s blue carpet.

Their host continued: “All the flaws just kept cumulating – stillborns, physical, mental afflictions... That’s why our Institute was founded, to ensure only healthy and genetically satisfying people were produced to be an asset for society. We use preimplantation genetic testing and then grow the fetuses in the Institute under our supervision, so the outcome is ensured.”

“I... In... test-tubes,” gasped Brian. He was shocked, yes, but also nauseous and his head was spinning. His head was acking more and more and he felt like he could pass out here and now.

“Bri...,” he heard John wheeze anxiously, “Bri...”

Brian turned to him. John was pale as death, covered in cold sweat, breathing heavily, a terrified expression on his face. His hand was clutching at his stomach.  
Dark dots started to dance in front of Brian’s eyes when he turned to Forster, who seemed unphased by the behaviour of his guests.

“What...?” Brian breathed out.

John swayed towards Brian with a small sigh and his eyes turned into his head as he collapsed like a rag doll. Brian tried to catch and support him, but the sudden movement was too much for his head – and then there was nothing but darkness.


	5. All Dead, All Dead Very Soon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who makes an appearance? In a way.

Brian had a terrible, terrible headache. At least that was the only thing he could focus on, slowly coming back to his senses. He moaned softly and wished nothing more than to just fall again into that deep black nothingness. He felt something cold, flat and hard under him. And something warm touching his face. He lied completely motionless, his eyes closed, before the migraine began to cease and he could even hear a voice calling him.

“Brian!”

Touch on his face again.

“Brian, please, can you hear me? Please, wake up! Brian!”

It took all his strength to remember how to open his eyes, but when he did, he saw John’s worried face above him.

“Deaky...,” Brian breathed out. “Where are we?”

“Oh, thank God! I thought...,” John didn’t finish the sentence. “And ehm, we are... my guess is we’re in a cell.”

Brian blinked furiously until all his surroundings got sharp contours again. The headache was leaving. He looked around. The room was small, undecorated and dark. The only light was coming through thick glass door, guards behind them.

“Oh, fuck,” Brian murmured and felt like the headache was coming back, “that fucking bastard...”

“Can you sit up?” John asked, ever the practical one, instead of an answer.

It took some effort, but Brian propped himself against his hands and sat. The first thing he saw was nobody else but Ray Foster, leaning against a wall behind their cell door.

“You!” The anger pushed Brian’s adrenaline so high he jumped up making two angry steps towards the man. Then he forced himself to calm down and breathe.  
In situation when one side was locked up by the other, he considered the best approach to be the diplomatic one. 

“Sir,” he gritted between his teeth, “what is this supposed to mean? I want an explanation. Now.” That was as diplomatic as Brian currently managed.

Foster only chuckled and raised his hands in the air. “You can have it. It’s very simple, really. Our Institute does not wish and cannot allow any contact with your planet.”

Brian clenched his fists. For a moment, there was silence.

“Why?” John asked, frowning. “From what you told us, all your problems would’ve been solved by the reconnection.”

Frown got only deeper when Foster chuckled.

“The ones before you were much quicker to understand, I give them that.” 

Brian and John exchanged gloomy glances.

Foster continued: “I give you a question. Who do you think would need the Institute if the reconnection happened? Pretty much nobody. And that we cannot allow.”

“So, this is about power?” Brian exclaimed, losing his composure once again. “You know you have a problem, you know this world is dying and you just don’t care? You can’t keep doing what you’re doing forever! You’re giving up Queen’s hope, your only hope for making this right, just because you couldn’t control people any longer? Is that it?”

Foster shrugged shortly, unphased. “If you want to put it that way, yes. And people here... they won’t die today, nor tomorrow, not in ten years, so what. How long we keep it up, that’s really a problem for future generations to solve. Not ours.”

“Fucker,” Brian replied shortly and turned around, so he couldn’t face Foster any longer.

After a long silence, John asked: “What are you going to do to us?”

“You will be executed.”

John’s face was equally as unphased as Foster’s, when he just glared at the older man. 

“Brilliant,” he deadpanned.

“Perhaps you should be grateful,” Foster escaped John’s stare, focusing now on the back of Brian’s head, “there are way more painful things we could do. This won’t hurt, I assure you. We’re a bit unexperienced when it comes to executions of people without integrated circuits, but we’ll do our best. On your friends, five years ago, we did a very good job.”

“Congratulations,” John sassed ironically. “We can’t wait.”

“In that case it’s good you don’t have to wait that long,” Foster gave him a humourless smile. “See you in an hour, gentlemen.”

With that, he turned to leave.

“Choke on that weed of yours, you bastard!” John shouted after him, but Foster was already gone.

They were alone.

John stood there, motionless, his breathing getting quicker and quicker until he forced himself to slow it down again, approached Brian and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Bri?”

Brian was still turned back to the door, facing a wall, staring at it like it could provide him with a solution.

“I’m so sorry, John,” he whispered after a moment, his voice cracked a bit, “so so sorry.” 

John frowned. “You speak like it’s your fault.”

“I should’ve known,” Brian replied. His whole body was tense, and fists clenched so firmly it looked painful. “I should’ve guessed there would be nothing good for us here. That way we’d never go with him.”

“And die by thirst and hunger hiding under their solar panels in the middle of a desert?” John replied with a little irony. “Please, you couldn’t have known. No one could.” 

There was no bench or bed in the cell, so they sat on the ground again, side by side, in silence. After the long time they spent only in each other’s company, they didn’t really need words now. What could one say anyway.

Almost half of their remaining time was gone when Brian finally spoke again: “Deaky?”

“Hm?”

“You know we went into this... knowing something could happen. We took precautions, we closed our affairs, but this...,” Brian sighed, “God, this is just so stupid.”

John nodded. “I know what you mean.”

And the silence again. The only sounds they heard was each other’s breathing and soft steps of guards on the corridor. One of the fluorescent lamps was slightly buzzing.

“Bri?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think...” John took a deep breath, “do you think Ronnie will remember?”

Anxious grey eyes met the hazel ones. 

Brian smiled lightly when he remembered several evenings he spent with John and his new girlfriend before they were taken to Atlanta and trained for the mission.

“She will,” Brian assured him, “you wrote her a song, after all, no one forgets such things.”

John seemed calmer now, but when he took Brian’s hand, he clutched it forcefully. Brian’s own fingers were cold as ice.

“You’re a great friend too, you know,” John mumbled.

“So are you.”

“Bri?”

“Hm?”

Loud shriek of a siren brutally broke the silence so abruptly both friends jumped at least half a metre high, and Brian managed to bite his already broken lip.  
He could hear a faint screaming from somewhere not far.

“Fire! There’s a fire here! HELP!”

All the lights flickered and then everything went dark, except for a weak emergency light at the end of the corridor.

“FIRE! RUN!”

Brian and John more heard than saw both guards swiftly fleeing, not giving the cell a second glance.

“Hey!” Brian shouted. He didn’t like the idea of execution but burning alive instead tempted him even less. This day truly couldn’t get any better, could it.

John joined him next to the door. “What are we going to do?”

“We can’t do anything!” Brian retorted, the impossibly loud siren disrupting his already disturbed nerves. Blood was running down his chin. He punched the glass door. “Fuck!”

“They’re coming back!” John shouted over the siren and pointed to the end of the corridor. Two guards were running quickly towards them. Different ones than those who left them though.

One of them, young black-haired man, quickly approached the controlling panel of the cell door, typed something and the cell opened.

“Quickly, darlings,” he said, “we have like three to five minutes before they come back and find out you’re gone.”

Brian didn’t move and neither did John.

“Who are you?” he frowned.

The other guard, small blond, rolled his eyes and spread his arms in frustration. “We don’t have time for this! Either come with us or stay here! Whatever works for you.” 

Brian looked back on John, who quickly nodded, so he turned back to the duo. “Lead the way.”


	6. Calling All Rebels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise if you notice some increased amount of mistakes, my beta resigned yesterday, so I'm currently trying to solve the issue. Thank you and have fun!

Brian May really didn’t have the best day. At least that’s what he thought when he was running down the corridor in the prison block, John by his side.

Sure, he was still alive, which was always a plus. For how long, he couldn’t tell. Where was he going, he couldn’t tell. What was he doing, he couldn’t tell. 

It was safe to say, his bar for contentment kept settling on “so far still alive”, which was disturbingly low. Even for a man who spent the last nearly two years locked in a space ship.

Quickly they passed elevators at the end of the corridor, burst through fire escape door and to Brian’s surprise, continued up the sharp staircase.  
Brian and John stopped. Their current kidnappers looked at them questioningly.

“What’s the matter, darlings?”

“We’re not getting out?” John asked breathlessly.

The black-haired man turned to him. “Of course, we are. But lower levels are the first place they’ll look, believe me.”

“But... the fire?”

“There’s no fire, we just got the alarm going,” the blond said and winked cheekily, “and I can scream for help quite convincingly. Now come, we don’t have time.”

He didn’t even wait for an answer before heading up the stairs with the other one following. Brian and John did their best to keep up, though after two floors they both felt ready to collapse.  
Brian had to stop and lean against the handrail. His legs were shaking, he couldn’t breathe, and he felt sharp pain in his side. John didn’t look any better.

“Fuck zero gravity,” Brian wheezed, and John just chuckled breathlessly.

They both silently hoped that not only their lack of muscle strength but also thinner atmosphere on Queen has something to do with this. 

“Hurry up!” the blond reprimanded them. 

Brian didn’t even know his name but felt a tempting urge to punch the guy right in his girly face.

“Ju-st... need a minute,” John gasped, holding his chest. 

“Are you joking?”

“Darling, no need to be rude.”

“Be damned, Freddie, the slower we are, the bigger chance-”

“The louder you shout, the bigger the chance as well,” Freddie fired back.

“I think... we can go now,” Brian said, half-truthfully, half to stop the impending argument.

The blond gave him an enigmatic stare and then without warning he took Brian’s hand and flung his arm over his shoulders to support him.

“You good?” he asked.

Brian nodded, surprised.

“We’re nearly there,” Freddie added when providing the same service to John. 

Together with the blond they basically dragged Brian and John further up the stairs. Brian couldn’t guess how high they exactly are, there were no windows, only plain walls and stairs of bare concrete.   
He couldn’t but notice that the blond, despite being a whole head smaller than him, was surprisingly strong. Or was it just his general weakness at the moment that made the contrast more visible? 

“What’s your name?” Brian whispered.

“Roger,” the blond mimicked Brian’s breathlessness and giggled.

“Thirteenth floor,” Freddie announced happily after ten more arduous minutes and let go of John so quickly that the man just stumbled before his noodle legs gave up and he fell to the floor.

“Shit! Are you alright, darling?” Freddie knelt to him immediately while John massaged his knee.

“Yes, thank you, I-” John suddenly paused and looked up to him. “Did you just call me darling?”

“Don’t take it personally,” Roger answered before Freddie even had a chance, letting go of Brian very carefully, “he found that word in some of those old books of his and now uses it whenever he can.”

“I don’t mind,” John replied, his cheeks tinted with a bit of a blush.

Roger nodded and stepped back to face everybody. “We need to be quick,” he reminded once again, “there are new clothes for you,” he pointed to two bags in a corner of the landing, “change here.”

The astronauts obeyed without hesitation, pulling down their own clothes to exchange them with uniforms not unlike the ones they saw guards wearing, only grass-green instead of blue.   
Brian’s trousers were ending above his ankles, but he took it philosophically. After all, after being dragged up the stairs like a wheezing sack of potatoes there’s no way he could feel even more humiliated. Even if the entire population of Queen saw him like this. As he folded his old clothes into the bag, he felt something hard in the pocket. He recognized a package of biscuits he snatched in their ship before the landing. Few hours ago... It felt like years. He was reluctant to just throw them away, so he hid them in his new pocket instead.

“What about this?” John gestured to their discarded garments.

“Don’t worry about those,” Roger assured him, “this floor is unused, it will take a long time before anybody looks here. Now, ready to go?”

Brian and John nodded.

“Great.”

The thirteenth floor really seemed mostly unused, Brian noticed, as they left the fire escape and went across the corridor to take an elevator down.

“This way no one will suspect we were ever anywhere near seventh,” Roger explained and grinned, “I expect you all to call me genius.”

“You deserve it, darling, once we get home in one piece,” Freddie promised.

“By the way,” this time Roger turned to Brian and John, “if anybody stops us, don’t talk to them. And if they ask what you’re doing here, you just came to deliver me new haptens for hybridizations from the Sarm West Labs, are we clear?” 

Brian and John looked at each other. Roger sighed. 

“Just don’t talk to anybody,” he said then, “act natural.”

Brian silently hoped that “acting natural” meant the same here as it did on Earth.

“Are you ok?” he whispered to John as they all entered an elevator and Roger pressed a button for lobby.  
John only managed a weak smile.

 

Brian gasped when the elevator door opened, and they suddenly stood in a hall full of people.

Freddie smiled. “Keep calm, dear, you’re doing great.”

Indeed, none of the people looked like paying any attention to them whatsoever, most of the crowd simply headed through heavy glass door out of the building, chatting lively. Going home from work. Brian swiped his face several times. He simply didn’t expect to see such a thing... such a normal, everyday thing... in place like this. Different world. Different planet. And after all that happened.

“There’s a security there, see?” Roger pointed out, bringing Brian’s attention back to their own situation. “Over there... and another one over there. Don’t poke your heads out too much, follow me.”

Instead of out with the crowd, he turned to lead them to from the lobby and through simple metal door inscribed “Authorised staff only”.

“Do you think they noticed we’re gone?” Brian whispered when Roger quickly closed behind them. The following corridor was dark and plain, even though quite wide.

“For sure they did,” Roger nodded, “but since nobody’s supposed to know about you, they can’t exactly create any havoc just yet. Luckily for us. But they’re searching, I’m certain.”

Brian acknowledged it with a nod.

“We’re heading to the supply door,” Roger continued as he led them further ahead, “I’ve got a car- Hi there, Crystal.”

Brian nearly got a heart attack, as Roger just casually greeted a man walking from the opposite direction.

But Crystal just smiled. “Hey, Rog! Going out the wrong door again?”

“Wrong door? Please, you know me, every door close to my parking spot is good door.”

Crystal just laughed and kept going with no visible suspicions.

John stumbled a little, half from exhaustion, half relief. Brian let out a breath he had no idea he was holding.

“You good there?” Roger asked.

“Yes, thank you.” He couldn’t but admire Roger’s perfect poker face. Next to him, John looked like on a verge of nervous breakdown and even Freddie seemed a bit anxious.

“They know you here,” Brian remarked.

He got a shrug in response. “Yeah, I work here.” 

As they carried on, they met several more people, until finally they reached huge metal door. Roger pushed them open.  
Sudden light after such long time in dark corridors almost blinded Brian, and the hot air from outside breathed at him as if he opened an oven. He blinked furiously before he could even see anything more through tears.

It was... he had to be honest with himself, quite a disappointing sight that only confirmed the impression he made in the helicopter.

They stood at a small parking lot, which was completely crouched behind the massive building of the Institute from one side, and several smaller and less impressive ones from the other. There was nothing green around, everything in various shades of dirty concrete, with some blue tones of the strange desert sand carried here by the wind. Do they have sand storms here, Brian wondered. He looked down under his feel, half hoping to see some timid bunch of grass or withered dandelion bursting from the cement, but nothing. His throat tightened.

“Aaaaand we’re out,” Roger grinned.

Brian wished he could share the enthusiasm, but everything around just felt downright wrong, a depressing combination of familiar and alien. Barely few seconds out, and he already hates this place with all his guts.

The omnipresent sand kept cracking under their feet, as Roger quickly led them across the lot towards a car. His car, Brian assumed. The poor thing, just like the rest of things here, looked like it lived through something terrible (the idea of sand storms appeared again) but it was also clear it was treated with an utmost care. 

“Get in there, everyone,” Roger invited them, “the sooner we get out of here, the better.”

Brian noticed John was looking at the thing with an utmost curiosity and a little smile on his face. At home he was a car enthusiast, spending his free time getting all the details about new models like he could afford them. So this little thing had to look even funnier to him than it did to Brian, because the last time Earth saw something similar was at least two centuries ago, if not more. An electric vehicle. Well, of course electric, given this planet for damn sure didn’t have any fossil fuels.

It is a silly prejudice, after all, Brian mused, while Roger skilfully drove them from the parking lot and into a traffic. You go to another planet and expect a civilization so much more developed than yours... as it’s in all the sci-fi books (God, how he loved them as a boy)... and instead of that, you get... He looked out from his window again, seeing nothing but the sheer repetition of houses looking like they were put together from five flat cement boards, no further thought given. He leaned back in his seat, suddenly tired, and just drifted off...

“Wake up, darlings!”

Brian opened his eyes quickly, surprised they were closed in the first place. He was staring right into Freddie’s face. He stared at the deep brown eyes, sharp cheekbones and protruding teeth before whispering: “I... fell asleep.”

Freddie giggled. “It seems you both had quite enough.”

Brian turned to the other side just to see John sleeping soundly, his face pressed against the car window, little drool coming out of his mouth.

Roger didn’t bother with waking up John gently like Freddie did Brian – he simply opened the car door.

“WHAA-!” John only yelped when falling out, covering his head with his arms. “Ow!”

“Roger, what did you do?” Freddie reprimanded him.

The blond only shrugged and offered John a hand to get up. “We’re here. Jim can’t wait to see you, guys.”

Brian blinked in sleepy confusion, but gladly followed Roger and Freddie from the sun into the house, which looked exactly the same as all the others. Simple block of flats. 

 

The main corridor seemed like it remembered better days. Brian was bracing himself for another hike up the stairs, but instead of it Roger and Freddie headed downstairs, underground.

Brian guessed the cellar corridor had to lead all the way under the house, just door after door after door.

Suddenly Freddie stood still and knocked on one.

“Jim!” he called. “You won’t guess who is it!”

A faint response came from the inside, inviting them to enter.  
The cellar was bigger than Brian expected and equipped almost like a normal room, including a bed, table, small sofa and a man in his early sixties sitting on it with a laptop.  
He quickly put it down when they closed the door, looking happy to see them.

“Welcome back, boys,” he turned to Freddie, “everything alright?”

“All went smoothly,” Freddie replied. “And...” he pointed on Brian and John dramatically, “...here we have the prize. Welcome to our headquarters, gentlemen.” 

Brian looked around the gloomy room, little unsure. “... headquarters?”

“Headquarters of our movement,” Roger explained. “Movement for free Queen. And now you’re a part of it.”

John shuffled nervously. “Eh... are we now?”

“Calm down, darling, and sit,” Freddie instructed him kindly and manoeuvred him on the sofa, “no need to be nervous. Any enemy of the Institute is a friend of ours. Would you like something to drink?”

“NO!” Brian and John exclaimed in unison.

All three other men looked at each other, but neither commented it.

“Anyway...,” Roger took word again, “now we finally have time for proper introductions. I’m Roger Taylor.” 

“Doctor Roger Taylor,” Freddie corrected him.

The blond just rolled his eyes. “Alright, doctor Roger Taylor,” he said with a little embarrassment hidden in his voice, “I’m a dentist. And this is Farrokh Bulsara, a pain in the arse.”

“Just Freddie will do,” Freddie assured them with a grin. “And finally, this is Jim. Jim Beach.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Brian smiled socially and reached out to shake their hands. None of them took it though, so he retreated quickly. “I’m Brian May, and this is my friend and colleague, John Deacon.”

John looked grateful Brian took the introductions in his own hands.

“Wonderful!” Freddie smiled. “So tell us, darlings – what terrible things have you done to Institute?”

Brian frowned. “Well... what?”

“Oh come on!” Roger interfered. “You can’t be thieves nor murderers or anything like that, you’d be locked in elsewhere. You were meant to be executed – right in the building, top secret, and as soon as possible. They do that only to those who go against them as an Institute. So, what was it?”

It began to dawn on Brian and a little panic caught his insides in a freezing fist. They don’t know!

“Well, we...,” there’s probably no way how to sugar-coat this, “we came from Earth.”


	7. Now They’re Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dears, I'm so sorry for the intervals between chapters becoming longer, but I'm currently studying for my neurology exam (I'm a med student), writing this in my breaks. Nevertheless, I truly hope you enjoy this and I'll keep trying to post reasonably!

We came from Earth, Brian said. Simply. Bluntly. Sounding a little abashed.

His eyes flickered between Freddie, Jim, and Roger as he tried to draw some conclusion from their empty expressions.

Suddenly the blond giggled, and the tension in the room broke. Freddie relaxed again and shot them a smile, while Roger let himself laugh freely.

Brian looked at John in a silent plea for help.

John cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “He, eh... he’s actually serious.”

“Dears,” Freddie stepped towards them and laid his hands on their shoulders in a comforting gesture, “we understand. But if we don’t trust each other, there’s little we can do.”

“Well yes!” Brian was a bit exasperated. “Believe us, then!”

“We don’t judge anybody,” Roger interfered, “really. Whatever you’ve done. Even if it was really stupid what got you caught-”

“That would be you, darling.”

“Hey!”

Freddie turned to Brian with a smug grin. “You wouldn’t believe, once he-”

“Look,” Brian said quickly when he saw Roger opening his mouth, “we really really really do trust you,” he had to hold all his fingers crossed for that statement, “and we are telling the truth! We were sent from Earth 18 months ago,” a month on Queen was a bit different from theirs, but whatever, “that’s how long it took to get here. There was a connection between our planets once. We were sent to find out what happened here. And to rebuild that connection if possible. The Institute doesn’t want that to happen, that’s why the execution, that’s why it was a secret.”

Nobody laughed this time, but they didn’t seem overly convinced. Freddie’s gaze was jumping from Brian to John and back again, while Roger simply stared at them, his blue eyes at least double their usual size.

Brian looked at him, directly and intensely. “You need to believe us.”

Roger blinked several times. “Are you... sane?” he asked, voice filled with suspicion.

“Believe me, we wish we weren’t,” Brian assured him. “It’s not exactly easy for us either.”

“Is there any way,” John spoke suddenly, “we can prove it to you?”

Roger swiftly turned to Freddie who looked deep in thought for about half a minute, before he raised his hand and touched behind his left ear.  
Roger seemed to quickly understand the point Brian missed, nodded furiously and approached the astronauts. 

“Ow!” Brian exclaimed when the blond firmly grabbed at his curls to pull him close and reached behind his left ear, as if he were searching for something.  
With a quiet, hysterical squeak he let go after few seconds, and turned to John to do the same.

“Freddie!” Roger exclaimed louder than before, this time downright panicky. “They don’t have it! There’s not even a scar, there’s nothing, they don’t have it!” He gesticulated wildly.

“Shit!” Freddie cursed. “Jim! What do we-“

Jim spread his arms in a defeated gesture, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“Look,” Brian started, “we understand-”

“SHUT UP!” Roger screamed. His body was shaking, his face contorted in a combination of anger and hysteria. Chest moving rapidly up and down with shallow breaths. “Shut up! SHUT UP!”

He grabbed the closest chair and threw it against the wall.

“Roger, darling-”

Everything from Jim’s desk was swiped to the ground with a loud crash, pieces of glass shattering on the floor.

Brian quickly yanked John out of the way when Roger ran out of the room, banging the door shut.

Then silence.

Freddie sighed. “I should probably go after him before he throws himself into the traffic again.”

Jim only nodded.

 

When both Roger and Freddie had left, Brian relaxed a little. The situation was tense enough and the company of Jim, without those two, was calming and refreshing. Brian and John sat back on the sofa.

“Is he...” Brian was searching for a good alternative to the word crazy, “... is he alright?”

Jim Beach nodded. “That’s our Roger. You’ll get used to it soon enough.”

Brian knew he very very much didn’t want to get used to it, but what could he do?

“So...,” Jim continued with his deep melodic voice, “from Earth, huh?”

“You don’t seem very surprised,” Brian remarked.

Jim smirked. “Oh, boys, I am surprised, but also - I’ve seen a lot of real shit,” now he sounded a bit pensive, “so I can guess quite well what’s worth freaking out. My bar is quite high.” He sat back into his chair more comfortably, intelligent eyes still watching the astronauts, cautiously but not unkindly.  
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” he added, “especially considering this whole action was a bit of an improv, as you have perhaps already realized.”

“What is it we don’t have?” John asked immediately. “I mean... the thing Roger was looking for.” He touched the spot behind his left ear which Roger had been studying earlier. “here.”

“Oh, that,” Jim hesitated, “actually would you... would you mind if I had a look myself?”

“Of course,” Brian agreed, a bit confused, but he still leaned above Jim’s desk, so the older man could shift his curls away.

“Fascinating,” Jim whispered. Then as he realized Brian and John looked a bit taken aback, he added, letting Brian free, “the thing Roger was talking about is called an integrated circuit. To put it easy, it’s a device implanted into the skull in the subdural space right above temporal lobe, with electrodes reaching deep into the brain’s chambers. They are implanted into all children age five, and last for life. With you two, there are only three people on this planet who don’t have it.”

“Who is the third one?” John asked.

The older man winked at him. “Me.” He turned a bit to the side so both Brian and John could see a white scar behind his left ear. “It used to be there.”

“Who did this to you?” Brian whispered. “And... and who does that to people at all? What is it for?”

“This,” Jim Beach replied, “is exactly the reason why I have been living here in Freddie’s cellar for the last three years.”

“Three?” John gasped. “In here?”

Jim sighed. “Yes, in here. I... I was working ar the Institute, for the IT department, in charge of programming new security systems for the RISUGI’s servers. It was about that time, when I discovered a series of heavily protected files accessible only by John Reid himself.”

“John Reid?” Brian interrupted him, frowning. “But he lived hundreds of years ago!”

Jim Beach chuckled. “The first one, yes. This is his descendant, head of the Institute his ancestors created. Sons are named after fathers, daughters after mothers. My father was named Jim Beach as well as my son one day would have been, if they hadn’t destroyed my genetic information stored for that purpose.”

It took Brian and John a while to wrap their heads around that statement a bit, before John asked: “Why did they do that?”

“That’s what they do, when you commit some particularly serious crime,” Jim replied, “they say the genome had been tainted and they cannot risk predispositions to such heinous crimes to be spread among future generations. So, they execute you... and get rid of all that is left after you. I’m the last of my bloodline.”

“Oh, Jim,” Brian didn’t perhaps fully understand the situation yet, but he could see how Jim’s shoulders sank when he talked about it, “I’m so sorry...”

“I knew what I was risking,” Beach stopped him and looked into Brian’s eyes, “and I did it anyway.”

John frowned. “Did what exactly?”

“I stole the files,” Jim replied, “and after some time I managed to hack into them. You see,” he explained, “these circuits we have are officially for protection, necessary since many people are sick or unstable. They can track them, and they can watch you. Any time, all the time, anywhere you go, whatever you do. So no one would be left without help should they ever need it. But in the files, I found the circuits have one more purpose. They are able to generate a high voltage electric impulse in your brain.”

“To kill you,” John summed up.

“Whenever the Institute wishes. If they see you doing something you shouldn’t.”

Brian pressed his lips together in disgust. Of course, the most advanced technology he’d seen on this planet so far, and it was used for spying and killing. It truly does seem people never change, no matter what planet or century.

“Foster told us,” Brian said slowly, “they don’t have that much experience with executions without a circuit. This must be what he was talking about.”

Jim Beach sighed again and rubbed his scar like it still hurt him. “Yes, it must be. He is the head of a security department. All this is under him. You know... When I found out about it, I was... horrified. Just horrified. I tried to tell people about it, but no one would listen. And when I realized they would come after me, I paid big money to one of the Institute’s neurosurgeons to get my circuit out. I had no intention to end up with my brain deep fried.”

“But they caught you,” Brian reminded.

“Shortly after that, yes. The surgeon who did it was killed immediately, I had to wait till they agreed on some other efficient way.”

John was on pins and needles, fascinated by the story. “And how did you escape?”

Jim smiled. “You’re not the first people Roger ever rescued, boys.”

“Roger?” Brian gasped. 

“Why so surprised?” Jim raised an eyebrow. “He saved the two of you just today. It was his plan.”

Yes, Brian thought, he saved us, kidnapped us, questioned us, then screamed at us, trashed this room like a hurricane, and stormed out. Just to sum up. Besides, Brian loved stories about big heroes, past or fictional, imagined them often - and none of them looked even remotely like Roger. Feminine physique combined with the temper of a devil, apparently. His soft blond hair framing a tender face and blue eyes looking so-

“Brian!”

He quickly turned to John. “What?”

“You’re lost in your head,” John chuckled. “Wake up, will you?”

“Eh... of course,” Brian felt his ears burning a bit. He suddenly straightened himself with a freaked out expression on his face. “Roger and Freddie!”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” 

“If they have these... these circuits-”

“Yes, they do.”

“Then the Institute knows it was them who helped us escape, they-”

“Whoa!” Jim stopped him with a smile. “Slow down... Bran?”

“Brian.”

“So, Brian,” Jim looked at him more intensively, “I assure you, the Institute didn’t see anything.”

“But how? You just said-” 

“The years I spent here weren’t for nothing, you know. I managed to hack into their satellite system and created something I call a blind zone.”

“Judging by the name - you hack their system, create this zone on certain coordinates, and it blocks signals from circuits of the people inside it?” John guessed.

Jim smiled. “Exactly. However, I can’t create more at once and they are mostly working just for a short period of time and small area,” he admitted. “RISUGI’s safety systems always cure the bug quite quickly. But it gets the job done. And keeps Freddie and Roger, well,” he sighed, “I can’t say safe... but it keeps them safer.”

 

Roger was walking angrily down the street aimlessly, breathing heavy and erratic, face red.

“Roger!”

He sped up.

“Roger, darling, I will not chase you like that!”

“WHAT IS IT, FRED?” Roger shouted as he turned around. Several passers-by turned to look at him with disapproval.

Freddie raised his hands in a small gesture of surrender. “Rog... we really need to talk. This solves nothing, you know that.” His voice was calm and soothing, as he approached his blond friend. “But first things first, darling. A hug. Come on.”

“Freddie, I-“ Roger started but was already crushed in a tight hug by Freddie. It was helping a bit.

“And now I need you to breathe, darling,” Freddie instructed. “With me. Slowly.”

Roger tried his best to slow down his choked breaths and copy Freddie’s pattern. After a few tries he succeeded.

“That’s it. I’m letting you go now.”

“Thanks, Freddie,” Roger whispered. He was just standing there, breathing deeply, before he released the last bout of frustration by punching a wall next to him. “What are they, Freddie?” he asked sharply. “They can’t possibly-”

“They very much can,” Freddie shrugged, “what other explanation is there?”

“What if they’re sick? Out of their minds! Escaped from somewhere.”

“Without circuits? From an Institute’s death cell? No, dear,” Freddie shook his head, “I believe them.”

“So do I, sorts of I mean, but yeah, but... But what do we do?” Roger groaned. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this!”

“We don’t have to change plans that much,” Freddie reminded, “they are still two outcasts who need our help. And I’m guessing they don’t love the Institute either.”

“This will get us killed, Freddie.”

“It would get us killed even if they weren’t what they are. Besides, it might have some advantages.”

“What do you mean?”

“They were sent here from Earth!” Freddie whispered so quietly Roger barely heard him on the loud street. “From all the people there, these two were chosen to go and fly through space! They must be the best of the best!”

Roger snorted. “Or the ones the others won’t miss, more likely.” He squinted his eyes and looked at Freddie suspiciously. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you!” Roger poked him in the ribs. “I bet you can’t wait to show them all that stuff you have in the museum. Or at your apartment for the matter.”

“I can’t help it, darling, I mean, they’re from Earth!” This time the excited spark in Freddie’s eyes was even more noticeable. “Real people from Earth! You must be excited at least a little, don’t tell me there’s nothing you’d like to ask them.”

Roger had to reluctantly admit that there was a spark of curiosity somewhere in his brain, but it was way too well hidden under a pile of facts screaming “trouble”. He sighed.

Freddie took his hand and caressed it. “Roggie, dear, what do you say we go back inside and have some vitamins with our guests? I haven’t had any since this morning, and I’m dying for a good pick-me-up.”

“Today’s calling at least for three or four shots,” Roger chuckled, “if this isn’t an occasion, I don’t know what is. Yeah, lead the way.”

“Splendid,” Freddie clapped his hands and headed back to their secret lair with Roger following.


	8. A Kind of Vitamin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter about Freddie, Roger, and Jim getting their pick-me-up. Brian and John aren't so enthusiastic.   
> A shy start of Maylor, if you squint.

When Freddie and Roger returned, they found both astronauts and Jim in a lively conversation.  
Very lively, even though one-sided conversation. Lively for Brian, at least.

“.... because usually it depends on an electromagnetic radiation with which the dust particle interacts, the cross section, the wavelength and refractive index,” Brian explained to Jim, who had a polite smile on his face, though his eyes were a little glassy, “so you understand how completely fascinating it was for us! I always took for granted that emissivity depended only on the grain’s efficiency factor, but this opens a plethora of possibilities.”

John didn’t even pretend to be listening, staring on his knees he was playing with a loose thread. Nobody in the room noticed the duo at the door.

“What is he talking about?” Roger whispered.

Freddie exhaled. “I don’t know... it sounds smart though.”

“- so we simply had to make a detour to pick up some samples, we had them stored on our ship-”

“Roger!” Jim exclaimed happily, little bit louder than necessary. “Back among us?”

“Oh, shut up,” Roger replied tiredly and collapsed onto a sofa next to Brian and turned to him, “what were you talking about?”

“Our ship,” John said quickly before Brian even managed to open his mouth, “I’m wondering what they did to it. Foster said he has his team of experts.”

Jim nodded and turned to his computer. “I can have a look, but... don’t get your hopes too high.”

Freddie nodded. “He’s right. If the Institute insisted on getting rid of you so soon, there is no way they would let a space ship just somewhere on display.”

Brian shifted uncomfortably. “We were... supposed to send a message home. About Queen and everything. But without our transmitter... do you know about any other way?”

The room was quiet for a while, everyone thinking. Roger was the first one to shake his head.  
“No, I don’t.”

“I’m sorry, dear, nothing.”

“It’s a long time since there was such technology on Queen,” Jim explained, “during the years of contact all the way until the catastrophe, perhaps, but now, no. It’s too far away.”

Brian buried his face in his hands. Great. Nothing... He knew exactly how this looked. He had been there, five years ago, when they’d waited restlessly to get message from the first exploratory mission. They’d waited hours, days, weeks... All had been silent. As it was now. Useless, that’s how he felt. All this mission, his responsibility, bringing no new knowledge to Earth. Waste of time. Waste of money. Because of him.

At first Brian even didn’t notice Freddie’s warm hand on his head until the man spoke.  
“Please, don’t be upset, dear,” the hand started to play with his curls, “everything will turn out better tomorrow, you’ll see.”

“This mess isn’t our fault,” John said quietly as if he knew what was happening in Brian’s head, “I already told you. And I’ll keep repeating it. Not our fault.”

“Not ours,” Brian agreed, “just mine. You’re not responsible for this mission.”

“Am I your handbag or what?”

“Darlings,” Freddie quickly interfered. People from different planet or not, he could recognize an impending argument when he saw one. “You’re both exhausted. How about we leave the serious talks for tomorrow?”

Brian and John looked at each other and both nodded reluctantly.

“Excellent!” Freddie beamed, gave Brian one last pat on a head, and turned to Roger. “Now I believe I was promised a pick-me-up.”

“I shared with you just two days ago,” Roger protested in high-pitched voice, “it’s your turn!”

“I’ve got some here,” Jim announced quickly, “enough of them.”

“Shots or pills?”

“Both, I believe.”

“Get us shots, then, let’s have this party started.”

Brian and John were confused at first, but it became clear what the trio was talking about when Jim took out a small green box.  
Roger made grabby hands and Jim handed it to him with a chuckle. It turned out the box contained several swabs, a small bottle of what looked like a disinfectant and at least twenty tiny syringes packed individually in plastic wrappings, pre-filled with some yellowy liquid.

Freddie reached over Brian’s lap to grab a handful of them, a grin of pleasant anticipation on his face.

“What is this?” John asked.

“This, darling?” 

“You don’t know what this is?” Roger sounded incredulous.

“We’re not here exactly long, you know.”

“This, darling,” Freddie said dramatically when rolling up his sleeve, “is our reason for living. It’s a pick-me-up,” he added when seeing John’s raised eyebrow and giggled, “nobody would be able to even function here without it.” 

Expertly Freddie cleaned the skin of his left forearm with one of the swabs and gave himself the shot on a first try. Brian noticed there were many scars after previous shots around this one.

“It’s called DHA,” Jim told them. He already took his shot and now he was leaning back in his chair, looking careless and cheery, though a little flushed. “Stands for dehydroapermycitine... or something like that.”

Suddenly Brian felt something cold on his forearm and quickly jerked away. Roger with a wet swab in his hand looked a bit hurt.

“Stay still, will you? I’m trying to help.”

“I don’t want this!”

Silence. Roger looked so taken aback Brian feared the table would end up flipped again. He certainly wasn’t any saint when it came to drugs, on the Earth he tried his fair share, including cocaine and caffeine pills when times were bad, and it certainly sounded enticing to get high after a day like that, but no, thank you.

John joined him. “I’ll pass as well,” he announced, “the last time we got drugged today we ended up in a death row.”

Roger giggled and used the prepared shot for himself instead. “You have no idea what you’re missing on.”

“I’m willing to risk that,” Brian mumbled as he watched Freddie get his shot number two, little bit more clumsily than the first one.

“Silly Earth people,” Roger got himself his dose two and three and leaned back, eyes blissfully closed.

Freddie and Jim were awake, though one would say a bit absent. Freddie was staring directly into a wall, humming a melody.

 

“Well, isn’t this fun,” John deadpanned after sitting awkwardly next to Brian for at least ten minutes of silence.

Freddie turned to them, his eyes basically glowing, pupils blown wide. “This is fun,” he grinned, “fun... for every day, but this... is a celebration, darlings. We celebrate your... you came here today, so it’s... gethereday? Cameday?” 

“Comeday?” Jim supplied helpfully.

Brian shifted on the sofa a bit, forgetting Roger was now leaning against his shoulder. Now, losing the support, the blond swayed and fell with a soft “ah” directly on Brian.  
John let out some undefinable sound of amusement, when Roger opened his eyes, looked up and smiled.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Roger,” Brian replied. “Care to sit up again?”

Roger thought about it for a moment.  
“No,” he finally decided and made himself more comfortable in Brian’s lap. Brian couldn’t say he really minded that much. Roger’s cheeks were flushed pink, blue eyes wide and innocent, pupils blown. 

“You’re funny,” Roger said suddenly, looking up from down there. And, of course, he giggled.

Brian had to admit, like this, the dentist looked quite adorable. 

“Yeah, I’m hilarious,” he mumbled, which brought him another load of giggles from his lap. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he just gently scratched Roger’s head. John chuckled.

Both Brian and John were slowly preparing to spend hours in the cellar with their stoned acquaintances, but to their surprise the effects of the drug wore out relatively quickly.  
Roger sat up again looking quite unphased which Brian felt grateful for. Because, honestly, if he had to spend longer time with Roger’s hot breath against his crotch area, then, well... Freddie’s “Comeday” would get quite a new meaning. 

“That was nice,” Freddie commented and turned to astronauts, “you see? Next time you might even join us. There’s no harm in this.”

“Too short,” Roger huffed when fixing his shirt.

“Well, take a pill when you get home.”

“You know damn well the pills don’t do shit to me.”

“Yet you never skip them,” Freddie teased. “Speaking of which, we should decide where we put Brian and John to sleep. It’s getting late.”

“We won’t be here?” John asked, surprised.

Freddie shook his head. “I don’t think we should keep more than one fugitive in the same place for the night. One of you comes with me. The other goes home with Rog.”

“You go with Freddie,” Brian decided immediately, looking for John. He didn’t like the thought of them being separated, but Freddie seemed kind and genuinely excited about having them here. Roger’s attitude (the head in the lap bit put aside) was much more unpredictable. Brian didn’t want his friend to have to deal with tables flying around in the middle of the night, should they get to that point again. He’ll manage.

“Fabulous,” Freddie smiled and got up, “so I think we’ll wish you a good night, darlings.”

John looked on Freddie, then on Brian, and on Freddie again, looking a bit lost. Meeting new people with Brian by his side to do the talking was one thing, but spending a night at Freddie’s alone, he wasn’t so sure.

“Come on, dear,” Freddie turned to him, sensing his discomfort, “I have my flat in this very house, just up the stairs. We’ll get you something to eat and then you can rest. We all had quite a day.”

John got up obediently, said good night to everybody, and left in Freddie’s trail.

Roger sighed. “So... that leaves me stuck with you, curly.” He got up as well. “Come on.”

Brian frowned, but swallowed the words he wanted to say about the nickname. If Roger decided to be a little bitch without Freddie’s supervision, so be it. 

He got up. “Good night, Jim.”

Jim nodded. “Good night, boys.”


	9. A Night at the Rhye

Breathe in, John. Right, that’s it.

And out.

And in. 

And out.

Freddie frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want any help, dear?”

“No, I’m good,” John wheezed and looked at the flight of stairs in front of him with pure hatred. A never-ending staircase. His legs felt like jelly. A jelly that hurts.

Freddie hopped back and supported him anyway. “You’ve spent a long time in space, there is no shame in this.”

John bit his lip. “I guess,” he admitted, “but it’s still kinda... embarrassing.”

“Oh, come on,” Freddie said cheerily, “there’s nobody to impress around here. And just wait till you see my flat, because dear God, there’s a little bit of a creative chaos – you see, that’s embarrassing.”

John chuckled. “I really don’t mind.”

 

Finally, they reached the top. John had to smile when Freddie unlocked the door. On Earth everything was on card or microchips – this had to be a second... no, third time John had seen a mechanical key.

“Aaaand, we’re home! Please, do come in, darling. It’s a little small, I’m afraid.”

The first thing John thought of when he saw the place was his old room on Copernicus Moon Base, where he started his career at NASA. It was indeed small and looked like its best years belonged to the past already.  
The walls, perhaps once white were now greyish, and all the furniture looked either very old or very cheap. But there the similarities ended, because John’s old room had always been meticulously tidy and organised. It wouldn’t be fair to say the place was a mess – more appropriate word would be “chaotic”. It seemed clear Freddie was trying to remove the overall gloominess using any possible or impossible means. All the cupboards were painted with intricate geometrical patterns in cheery colours, small decorative rugs laid on the floor, and the one window (which, as John later discovered, couldn’t be closed properly) had been provided with draperies. What didn’t help the overall cramped feeling, however, were at least ten big boxes scattered around the room for no apparent reason apart from standing in the way. All of them marked with numbers and quite heavy.

“Have a seat, darling,” Freddie smiled, “I’ll bring us dinner.”

“Can I help?”

“Oh, no, dear, just relax. I’m right back.”

John carefully stepped over box 4 and box 7 to get to a red sofa and sat down, finding himself surrounded by small fluffy cushions. He decided he loved it and smiled.  
The whole room, no matter how disorganised or cramped, just looked so... inhabited. Warm. Comfortable. All the things he didn’t have for such a long time. The grin was getting wider.  
He leaned back more comfortably, listening to soft clanking of cutlery from the tiny kitchen and looking around curiously, noticing even the smallest details. 

On the walls there were several holocanvases. John suspected they were all Freddie’s work, as the projector and markers were proudly standing in one of the corners, dominating their quarter of the living room completely.

“Here we go,” Freddie announced cheerily, fluently jumped over boxes 5, 1, and 7 (in that order) and made himself comfortable next to John, handing him a small bowl. 

John sniffed it carefully. “Is this... that alga of yours?”

“Viridis alga,” Freddie nodded, “yes.”

It looked like a very solid, non-transparent jelly or an old custard. But after a more than a year of living on mostly protein paste, fibre crackers and some chocolate here and there, John wasn’t that picky.  
He tasted it. The weird look and texture aside... it reminded him of tofu. More specifically – tofu combined with some soy. And clams, for some reason. John ate them once on a holiday and recalled the experience now clearly.

“It’s good,” he said. Freddie, already half-way done, smiled. 

They finished their meal quietly, even thought John could basically feel his host burning with questions. He knew he didn’t make for the best companion and felt a bit of pity for the poor man stuck with him instead of Brian, who would undoubtedly give him the small talk he craved and answered all the Earth-related questions much more eloquently. He should say something. Anything, John, come on.

“So, eh... you’re an artist?” John gestured to the holopaintings on the walls.

Freddie perked up. “Do you like them?”

John nodded and got up to look at them more thoroughly. “What is this one? Is that on Queen? Or that one?” A scene on another canvas caught his eye. The amount of green colour used surprised him. Since he arrived on this planet, he saw nothing green outside. 

“No, it’s not on Queen, it’s...,” Freddie bit his lip before joining John in front of the painting, “... it’s nothing.”

John stayed silent, as he already knew that’s the best way how to make someone talk. 

“It’s not on Queen...,” Freddie repeated, “it’s... a dreamland.”

John nodded a looked back at the painting. “So, a dreamland?”

“Sometimes... I think about it, you know. I call it Rhye. Far from here, full of people and... different. And there are lots and lots of the things from old books. I just... close my eyes and get there when I want to.” He laughed a little. “Roger thinks I’d do much better if I just focused on reality. And he’s right, you know. This is stupid.”

“It’s not,” John argued and looked Freddie in his surprised eyes, “we all do it,” he continued, “there’s nothing wrong about dreaming of other worlds. I mean... that’s what got me here.”

Freddie stared at him with an unmasked surprise. “You made your own world too?”

“I just... knew the one I was in didn’t really fit me,” John admitted, “I felt like it’s just running around, and I stay put, day after day. I needed to... spread my wings, I suppose.” 

Freddie’s eyes were making him a little self-conscious. He felt a heat on his face and knew it must have been shining red just now. He never spoke this openly with people he barely knew, but somehow with Freddie it felt... natural.

“I suppose...,” Freddie echoed contemplatively. “And I always thought Earth must have been – I mean, Earth must be an exciting place.”

“It is,” John assured him, “but I haven’t lived there since I was eighteen. I got my degree in cosmic engineering on the Orbit Academy and right from there I got an offer from the Euroasian Union to project installations for their new base on Mars. And when my contract was over, I got recruited by NASA, for their base work first, then for missions, and now... I’m here,” he finished a bit awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I... usually don’t talk that much.”

Freddie was looking at him fascinated, like John just appeared out of a golden lamp and promised him riches and immortality.

“You must talk more, darling,” he decided cheerily and squeezed John’s hands,” because I need to hear everything! Everything about each and every one of all those places!”

John giggled a bit, hoping Freddie wasn’t serious.

“And I simply have to take you to our museum, dear, and you will point out everything we did right and wrong.”

“Museum?” John was surprised. 

“I’m in charge of design in sections of history and anthropology,” Freddie specified, “nothing as exciting as Moon and Mars and space travels, but... I got to know quite a lot about Earth. That reminds me...,” he looked around the room a bit hopelessly, “I really need to move these boxes to the new exposition. I had them stored in my cellar, but since Jim got to live there, I had to move them here and so far...”

John recalled Jim had mentioned living in the cellar for three years by now.

“... but as nobody misses them, I thought they could simply stay here to give a little spirit to the place.”

“Or maybe they’re just heavy and you don’t feel like moving them?” John suggested.

Freddie chuckled. “Could be, darling. Now, wait here, I’ll wash the dishes.”

“Can I-”

“Oh, no, dear, you’re the guest.”

Freddie nearly tripped over one of the boxes while getting into the kitchen, his hands full, while John headed back to the sofa, plopping down on it with a soft smile. He felt warm, the sofa was soft, and his eyes were getting droopy. He just leaned back and listened to Freddie humming some tune in the kitchen.

“What is the song called?” he asked loudly so his host would hear him.

“You like it, darling?” Freddie appeared in the kitchen door. “I don’t know yet. It just... popped into my head.”

John smiled. “It’s nice. I... I used to write songs too.”

“Really?” Freddie jumped over boxes (numbers 5, 1, 7), and gave John an intrigued look. 

“It was for a girl I met,” John admitted, “she wasn’t, you know, a girlfriend or anything, she was my schoolmate, then we met twice later, then I asked her for drinks and... anyway, I wrote it.” His cheeks were tinted with a bit of pink.

“Oh, please, dear, do sing!”

“No!” Pink turned into deep scarlet. “I... Icantsing.”

“I’m sorry, dear, what did you say?”

“I...,” John hesitated, “I really, really can’t sing. I played it on a guitar.” After a moment of silence, he asked: “You know guitars here?”

Freddie nodded. “I saw some boys in school playing them, many years ago.”

He looked a bit troubled, so John intervened: “But you can sing. Would you sing some of yours?”

“You really... want me to sing?”

“Yes, I do,” John said firmly, noticing the insecurity. “I really do, Freddie.”

Freddie let out a laugh. “Very well, then.”

Theatrically he stepped on one of the boxes and put on even wider smile.  
It was contagious, and John grinned as well.  
Freddie was looking on him for a short moment, thinking, before he started a catchy melody:

“Fear me you lords and lady preachers  
I descend upon your land from the skies  
I command your very souls, you unbelievers—”

“BULSARA!”

Sudden scream and a loud banging coming from the flat above startled them both.

“Oh,” Freddie peeped.

“SHUT THAT SCREECHING, WILL YOU? PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP HERE!”

“I’M TERRIBLY SORRY, MISS ARGYLL!” Freddie shouted in response, sheepishly. “IT WON’T HAPPEN AGAIN, I PROMISE!”

“IT BETTER NOT!”

One last bang as a goodbye and then silence.

“Eh...,” Freddie looked a little bit embarrassed. “So... that was it.”

“I really liked it,” John assured him, “I mean,“ he added, “I liked the singing. Not the screaming bit.”

Freddie huffed. “In Rhye people can sing whenever they want, whatever they want.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Well, then you’re invited, darling,” he grinned. “Before we get there, I guess we can sing... in a desert, what do you say? But there would be no “I can’t sing” excuses. We sing, we dance, we jump over the alga plantations and get mad together. Reason is overrated anyway.”

John laughed. “You’re a strange man, Freddie.”

He smiled. “Well, so are you.”

Aaand, here comes the blushing again. “I’m not really,” John stuttered, “I’m... actually quite ordinary.”

Freddie shook his head. “Perhaps on Earth, I can’t judge that, but here, on Queen...” He looked into John’s eyes deeply and intently, like he was trying to figure out a riddle, “you’re the single most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen.”

John’s brain short-circuited, and his heartbeat doubled or most probably tripled its usual speed. He wanted to say something deep. Interesting. Profound.

“Ehh... okay.”


	10. Stone Cold - part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry you had to wait so long for this chapter, I was really busy these last days, but I'm back now and with me comes the long awaited Maylor chapter. Because it's longer than standard and quite a lot of things are being revealed and established, I decided to split it in two. Enjoy!

Brian closed his eyes and leaned more back in the chair. White fluffy bathrobe he borrowed was way too small for him and revealed a great deal of his chest as he moved.  
He tried to supress a shiver running down his spine when Roger’s hot breath touched his cheek and small clever fingers entered the mouth, running softly across his lip.

“Could you tell me,” Roger said and looked Brian right into his eyes, “why the actual hell didn’t you say something way earlier?” He sounded exasperated. “And don’t tell me you didn’t notice, it’s torn at least two centimetres for God’s sake!”

“It’s not a big deal,” Brian mumbled, words little slurry around Roger’s gloved fingers.

Finally, the examination was over, and Brian could close his mouth again.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

Distrust was literally radiating from the host’s expression. Really?

Brian looked down. “.... a little bit.”

Roger just huffed impatiently. “I thought so, torn lip’s always a bitch. Hang on in here, I get the kit.”

“You don’t -“ 

But he was already gone. 

Brian sighed. Half an hour, that’s how long it’s been since he stepped over a threshold of this apartment. Since then Roger showed him around, pointing out “this is a bed”, “this is a kitchen table” and “this is a sofa” before Brian assured him they have these things on Earth as well. The whole tour ended in the bathroom, and practical demonstration of how showers work here resulted in Brian’s clothes getting completely drenched.  
Now he was sitting here in Roger’s bathrobe, since no other clothes would fit and not look ridiculous.  
In the middle of dinner (eating a gelatinous stuff which tasted like a sealant in Brian’s humble opinion), Roger noticed his guest was carefully chewing on the right side only and forced Brian to let him have a look. So... here they were. 

Brian was mildly annoyed by that point to say the least.

“I bit it during our landing,” he called so Roger rummaging in the bathroom could hear him, “so I was a bit busy in that moment. And then, you know, getting arrested and so.”

Roger rolled his eyes when he reappeared, put a small white box on a table with harder force than necessary and folded his arms on his chest.  
“You know, I can just let it be, how would you like that?”

Brian spread his arms in frustration. “I just told you to let it be!”

“Fine. I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, with some luck you can even pass as one of digeorges,” Roger huffed.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “A what?”

“DiGeorge syndrome,” Roger answered nonchalantly, “it’s hereditary. Deletion on the twenty-second chromosome causing, among other things, clefts... and facial deformities with mental retardation.” There was an audible smugness in his voice.

“Your patients must be delighted to have you,” Brian replied dryly. 

Roger grinned. “They always leave faster than they came. Now, do you want me to fix it or not?”

There was a short moment of Brian’s internal battle, before he nodded. “Please.”

Roger didn’t comment on the decision, only opened his white box again and took out-  
A little wrinkle of worry appeared on Brian’s forehead as he watched Roger thread a needle. These practices were long forgotten for him, right after leeches and homeopathy. He grew up in a world of tissue glue, and he simply, truly, couldn’t imagine sewing parts of someone’s skin together would ever actually work. The point was to stop the bleeding, no? Won’t piercing the skin do the exact opposite?

He understood he was kind of out of options here though, so he resigned on any protests and just followed Roger’s orders to lean back and not move.  
The antiseptic tasted bitter and the needle thrust into the already painful place was exactly as unpleasant as he expected. Tears ran into his eyes as he let out an involuntary whine.

“It’s ok, you’re doing great, don’t move,” Roger muttered mechanically, concentrating on his work.

Brian would press his lips together but found out that’s quite difficult to do when your mouth is wide open and there’s a dentist in it.

Blue eyes were serious and focused. Only a hint of few wrinkles around them suggested Roger was no longer in his earliest twenties, because the rest of the soft, handsome face could easily belong to a teenager.  
Brian liked what he saw. He liked it a lot, which was quite confusing, he thought. Though nobody on Earth distinguished gay from straight anymore, except for few one-night stands Brian favoured girls. Unlike John, who simply did as he pleased at any given moment, men, women or anyone else and in between. And yet he was still able to pull off that “I-had-my-first-sex-last-night-and-I-think-I-liked-it” innocent look. Brian considered it to be one of John’s superpowers.  
Cosmic bases, where all the crews and staff circulated, and people met only to leave again in few days, were the best ground for casual encounters.

And then you spent seventeen bloody months in a ship, Brian reminded himself, no wonder you now fancy Roger. As you would anyone else if put in front of you. Calm down, please. 

He was also painfully aware that as he was now – tired, shaken and with his lower lip dragged way forward he didn’t exactly make the sexiest sight of all.

“All done,” Roger announced and let Brian’s lip go. “I’ll get you some ice.”

Brian just nodded and turned away casually to look around the room instead.  
Roger’s flat was spacious and if Brian could judge, quite well-appointed. The whole living room and kitchen were furnished in tones of grey, glass and metal, from a large sofa to a chandelier and long draperies. Speaking of draperies, a huge window covered nearly whole one wall of the room, letting in a golden light from the setting sun. Not exactly Sun, but its Queen’s variant, Alba. 

Brian frowned. Something about this place made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was...

“Here.” 

“Ugh!” Something freezing landed on his face. 

“Hold it,” Roger ordered. “And don’t touch the stitches, I’ll take them out in two days.”

“Thank you,” Brian mumbled and held the ice pack closer to the painful area.  
Roger sounded irritated now, maybe even upset. Brian didn’t really understand but he felt a bit guilty about it. One didn’t have to be a genius to figure that him being from Earth thwarted whatever plans Roger had when rescuing them. 

He suddenly realized what bothered him about the flat. It was clean. Very clean. Brian was usually all for tidiness, but this wasn’t the preferable “was dirty now it’s clean” type. This was more like “it’s always been clean” type. When you looked at the carpet, you could almost see the straight path from the door to the table and from the table to the bedroom, suggesting that’s the way Roger always took when he got home.  
Roger was washing the dishes now, silent, his shoulders stiff.

Brian cleared his throat. “Hm... Roger?”

“Yeah?” He stopped the water and sat on the counter to face him.

“I just wanted to tell you,” lame start, but better than nothing, Brian concluded, “that we really appreciate what you’re doing for us. You saved our lives, and I... and surely Deaky too, well, we’re really grateful.”

Roger was staring at him a bit, then nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“We got you in quite a situation and I understand you have your reasons not to be exactly excited to have us here-”

“Wait a minute,” Roger interrupted him, jumped down from the counter and came closer. “We went to RISUGI to rescue two guys who were supposed to be executed. And we did just that. You act like I just found you roaming around my living room or what. We wouldn’t have done it if we didn’t want to, Brian.”

“You don’t seem to really like the idea of me being here,” Brian replied honestly. 

“It’s not about liking or not,” Roger looked a bit defensively, hands crossed on his chest, “I’m just sorts of... trying to wrap my head around it still.” He chuckled. “It doesn’t happen to me every day, you know. I’m no Freddie.”

Brian raised an eyebrow in amusement. “It does happen every day to Freddie?”

Roger shot him an apologetic smile before letting out a sigh. “Freddie’s a dreamer,” he explained, “so I imagine this day happened to him at least five times before. Inside his own head. Your friend...?” 

“Deaky? Deaky’s a good guy,” Brian assured him quickly, “one of the best. There shouldn’t be any trouble.”

“If you say so,” Roger nodded. “Please,” he gestured to the sofa, “please, sit.”

Brian did so, and Roger joined him after getting them both glass of some slightly slimy water. Then he placed two little white pills next to each of them.

“That’s the drug, the...,” Brian fished in his memory, “...the DHA, again?”

Roger nodded. “The pills won’t give you such kick,” he explained, “but it helps to take them regularly.”

“I’ll pass,” Brian decided, “nothing for me. But thank you.”

He got a weird look, but Roger didn’t force anything. For that, Brian was grateful.

The blond swallowed his pills without a word, and the two sat in silence, before Brian asked: “So... you live here alone?”

Roger raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like I need a caregiver?”

“Oh no,” Brian chuckled, “I mean... like a wife. Or husband. Or a girlfriend, boyfriend?” He tried not to seem too eager when asking.

To be honest, Roger looked only a bit puzzled. “Why would my friends live with me?”

“I’m not talking about friends,” Brian was getting a confused as well, “I mean if you have a relationship. You know, romantic one.”

Roger only blinked. “... romantic?”

“Romantic like... eh... hugging? Kissing? Living together, getting married.” Brian cursed himself for sounding like a kindergarten pre-sex-ed.

But apparently that was still too much for Roger, who only frowned. “Those are Earth things? I... don’t think we do any of that.”

“Wait a minute,” Brian interrupted him. “You’re trying to tell me you never... never really...?” It was starting to dawn on him. Naturally, if on this planet they made their children in test-tubes, sex lost its position in the babymaking area. But babies are only one thing in the way wider concept.

“Never really what?”

“Do you...,” Brian started again, carefully, “do you know what sex is?”

Roger chuckled. “Of course, I do. There’s male sex and female sex. Males have sperm, females have eggs. Care to explain why we are talking about that now?”

Brian’s brain sorts of short circuited and he just sat there, staring at Roger.

“Brian? Something wrong?”


	11. Stone Cold - part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a second half of the very long Maylor chapter. 
> 
> Roger and Brian discuss serious issues, talk about perfection, contemplate space, share something sweet, and Foster doesn't believe in miracles.

It was about thirty minutes and several “nothing-is-wrong-it-doesn’t-matter”s later, when Roger asked Brian if he wouldn’t mind him doing some work for tomorrow. Brian, of course, politely replied he didn’t mind at all, so the conversation was ended with mutual exchange of pleasantries.

Brian stayed on the sofa, carefully sipping his drink and watching Roger. The blond was hidden behind his laptop at a desk in a corner, sighing from time to time.  
It was getting late, but the sunlight outside seemed to be far from gone, maybe just a little bit redder. Brian was taken aback by that before he remembered and looked out of the window again.  
Queen didn’t have just one sun, that was almost the first thing he ever learned about it and found it fascinating. It was all part of a binary star system Alba-Almira, the planet being a satellite of the former. But due to its orbit and the alignment of both stars, Queen always laid between them, getting warm white shine from Alba for the day, and only a little bit weaker, darker light of Almira during the night. Brian was staring right at it, mysterious Almira, shining bright red and dominating the sky for the next thirteen hours. 

“Sun never sets on Queen,” Brian mumbled.

Roger raised his eyes from the laptop. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, it’s just... it’s always a day here,” Brian explained, “and... you can’t see the stars,” he added after a short silence. He felt his throat tighten when he realized it.

“Well, why should you?” Roger objected. “Do they do anything when you see them?”

Brian sighed and looked at the sky again. “... not really,” he said after a pause, his heart heavy.

Roger turned back to his work and except for gentle tapping of his fingers against the keyboard, the room was silent.

Not really doing anything... Brian thought pensively. And yet doing so much... But how can you explain that. The strange pull of cold silver lights flickering in the velvet darkness, every night, calling him, far away... Calling him here. Here’s where the pull got him. He smiled at the irony.

“GOD DAMMIT!” Roger exclaimed unexpectedly, jumped from the desk in fury and threw a lamp against the wall. 

“Roger!” Brian was with him in several long steps. “What’s the matter?”

The blond was leaning against the table, breathing quickly. He looked like he was about to cry. Brian jumped up few centimetres when a fist hit the table instead of an answer.

“Are you alright?” Brian asked gently. “Can I help?”

Roger just chuckled darkly. “Unless you want to switch your eyes with me, there’s really nothing for you to do. Thanks for the offer though. I just...,” he looked almost painfully uncomfortable now, avoiding eye contact and blankly staring into the desk. “... I just can’t see a bloody thing.” 

“It happened now?” Brian was confused, but Roger just waved his hand dismissively. 

“Nah, I have it since I was small,” he was shuffling through one of desk drawers as he spoke bitterly, “I guess one of my parents gave me this... lovely gift.”

He finally found what he was searching for – a simple pair of glasses. With visible disgust he put them on and immediately turned to Brian, noticeable strain in his voice. 

“Please, please, promise me you won’t tell anybody,” he begged, grabbing Brian’s arm. His eyes were wide open and seemingly even bigger than before. “Promise me!”

Only the clear distress in Roger’s voice prevented Brian from a chuckle. “What’s wrong about wearing glasses?” he asked softly instead. Roger looked so small now, so vulnerable, that he just wanted to pull him closer and comfort him in an embrace. But he restrained himself.

Roger pressed his lips together and sat back behind the desk, shoulders hunched. He stayed silent.

Brian wasn’t sure what to do, so he went to the kitchen, filled a glass with water and placed it next to the laptop.

“Please, drink it. You’ll feel better.” As if. Bollocks.

Roger probably knew that too but took a small sip anyway. 

“It’s a flaw, you know,” he mumbled after a minute.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“A flaw!” Roger snapped. “My shitty eyes! It’s hereditary! It’s in my family!”

“Roger, it doesn’t matter, half of the people on Earth have-”

“I don’t care!” he jumped up again and Brian took an instinctive step back. “Can’t you see it matters? It matters a big bloody deal!” Roger was getting agitated. “You see, I’m healthy, more or less. And I’m not stupid either. That’s why I got this job, and it’s a decent job that pays well. And I got a proposition to help in RISUGI’s genome sorting programme,” he fiercely gestured towards his laptop, “and that’s bloody not something they offer to everyone! If they find out I’m not as... as good as they think I am...” His voice trailed off and he collapsed into his chair again.

Brian slowly exhaled. “Roger... you can’t think...”

He raised his stare sharply. “Think what?”

“You can’t seriously think you’re less than any of those arseholes back in the Institute! This isn’t how you measure a value of people!” 

“But they are better than me, Brian!” Roger cried out. “Better genome, better lineage, better prospects! You have no idea how this works!”

“Well then explain it to me!” Brian asked and crossed his arms on his chest. “Go on.”

“Easy,” huffed Roger. “The less flawed you are, the better job you get, the more money you’re paid, the better...” he hesitated and looked away before finishing, “... the better match they find you.”

“Match for...?”

“Genes!” Roger was apparently getting frustrated over Brian’s obliviousness. “The better I am, the better the mother of my children will be and the better the chance they’ll... be as healthy as possible.”

Brian’s heart broke as he watched Roger’s face during the last statement.

“Oh, Roger...,” he whispered.

The blond didn’t answer, he didn’t even look at him, he only slowly raised his left hand to touch behind his ear, where his circuit was hidden. Deep down.

“All this... rebellion thing,” Roger mumbled. “Jim told you what they did to him, didn’t he? What they... will do to us.”

Brian nodded.

“Sometimes... I think the price is too much,” Roger admitted with helplessness creeping into his tone, “it shouldn’t be like this. They can take our lives, our future, our everything! They shouldn’t have the right! It needs to be changed. Just has to.”

“And it will be,” Brian said firmly, “this system you have is...”

“System is alright,” Roger interrupted him. “The system is necessary. But the leaders of RISUGI spoiled it and used it for themselves.” He touched the circuit again, his face determined. “Long ago we trusted them with power over us, but power should serve people, not the other way around. So, to go against them... is the right thing to do.” He clenched his fists. “Because they need to be reminded.”

Brian watched Roger carefully, studying his expression.

“That’s why you saved us?” he asked quietly. “As a reminder?”

“And because it was the right thing to do,” Roger nodded. “As I said.”

Brian had no idea if Roger expected him to say something, but there were too many thoughts circling around in his head to make a coherent sentence. He just knew he could stand there and listen to that soft resolute voice forever.

Roger got up from his chair again, drew the heavy black draperies and turned on the lights, probably also to get himself time to think.

“It’s late,” he explained, “I can give you something to sleep in and blankets. I hope you’ve got nothing against sofa.”

“Not at all,” Brian assured him with a smile. One moment talking about taking down a regime, and in the next minute worrying about blankets. He found it utterly adorable.

Roger disappeared in to the bedroom only to emerge a minute later with a pile of cushions and blankets.

“I’m getting cold from time to time, that’s why I have them,” he defended himself upon noticing Brian’s amused look. “And you should be grateful, curly.”

“I am,” Brian nodded, “it will be a pleasant change to sleep on a horizontal surface. In the ship we had to strap ourselves to our beds on the wall. We got used to it, but it never stopped feeling bizarre.”

“How...,” Roger was thinking about the question for a while, still arranging the pillows and blankets, “... how is space?”

Brian too his time with an answer. “It’s... overwhelming,” he admitted at last and continued, “especially the moment when you look back – and there’s no more Earth behind you, because you’ve gotten too far to see it. In that moment I realized it’s just me and Deaky and a thin shell of metal separating us from the space outside. You know the feeling when you’re a child and you’re not supposed to go somewhere – but you do anyway because you’re so curious and determined that nothing can stop you. It’s exciting... and scary... and addictive, to be honest,” Brian chuckled.

He sat down on the sofa and gestured for Roger to join him.

Roger seemed deep in thought. “Is that why you agreed to go on Queen?” 

“One of the reasons, yes. I was curious,” Brian confessed. “I wouldn’t want to go to space just like that, roaming around, no. But to go somewhere, to reveal a secret like this,” a twinkle appeared in his eyes as he smiled, “I couldn’t resist. And at the same time, I just wanted... to do something extraordinary in my life,” he admitted. “Quite a selfish motivation.”

“I guess as good as any,” Roger smiled. “Not everyone would have the courage.”

“It’s not about courage, really.”

“Of course, it is!” Roger raised his voice as he argued. “You said it yourself! To let people lock you up in a metal box and shoot you just-” he gesticulated wildly, “- just away from everything! I... I would never do what you did! You could’ve died!”

“I suppose I could’ve,” Brian admitted and shrugged, “there’s a lot of faith involved. And now we’re here, quite in the same situation in a way, all of us.”

Roger nodded. “They can still kill you, if they find you. All of us.”

“You don’t sound that bothered,” Brian noticed. 

“What do you want me to do, jump around, scream in panic?” Roger chuckled bitterly. “I mean... I don’t like the idea of dying but... honestly, there isn’t much I haven’t done in my life, I mean...,” he shrugged, “what would I miss anyway? It’s not my death that scares me.”

Brian stared at him for few seconds. Oh, you have no idea..., he thought. It made him kind of sad. He wanted to do something for Roger, something... He quickly rejected ideas such as taking his hand or hugging or anything from that area of actions.   
Suddenly he got it.

“Where are you going?” Roger inquired when Brian made a quick beeline to his old (and still wet) clothes hanging from the door to get dry and rummaged through the pockets. It was there.   
The small silver package of biscuits he was carrying around since they landed.

“I want you to try something,” Brian announced, sat back on the sofa next to Roger and ripped the package open.

Roger looked at its content, mixture of curiosity and distrust written on his face. “What is this?”

“A food from Earth,” Brian smiled, “you try it. It’s just fibre crackers, nothing special but better than the fucking alga.” He muttered the last sentence.

Roger giggled. “Fucking alga? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Oh, fuck. “Eh..., it’s a swearword,” Brian explained. “Doesn’t really... mean anything.” Not here anyway.

Roger nodded and turned his attention back to the suspicious items Brian was holding.

“What’s this goo on it?” he asked with a frown.

“Chocolate,” Brian picked one of the biscuits and ate it, “it’s good, you see?” He took another one and placed it in Roger’s hand. “Try.”

Roger held the biscuit like it needed to be defused and sniffed it carefully. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Brian offered and reached out to retrieve the treat. 

That was all it took for Roger to quickly take a bite.   
First, he looked like spitting it out immediately, but then he kept chewing. His eyebrows nearly met his hairline, blue eyes flabbergasted, as he threw the rest of the treat in his mouth. He let out a soft, needy moan and grabbed at another.

“That’s fucking delicious!” he exclaimed, mouth full, unintentionally spitting out several crumbs.

Brian sighed but he had to chuckle as Roger reached for more and more, stuffing his face with an animated grin, eyes shining.   
Only two biscuits were left when Roger hesitated.

“I guess I should... leave some for Freddie and Jim,” he mumbled.

Brian winked. “Or you can just have them, and we won’t tell anyone.”

One could clearly see all the wheels turning in Roger’s head. Then he frowned. “You are terrible, terrible person, Brian May.” Quickly, he snatched both remaining biscuits and shoved them in Brian’s mouth so forcefully Brian let out a muffled yelp. 

“Terrible person,” Roger repeated, but his eyes twinkled with suppressed laugh.

Brian swallowed and grinned. “Just a little bit.”

 

Meanwhile in the RISUGI security headquarters, there was a group of guards and techs who had the misfortune of being on duty that day. Foster was pacing in front of them, fuming with anger, his strides aggressive.

“Could you explain to me how something like that happened?” he screamed and punched a table so hard all the glasses on it jumped. “A cell of highest security! Not only you were unable to prevent that false fire alarm and power outage, but you let two prisoners escape right before their execution! Something like this is unprecedented! CAN YOU EXPLAIN YOURSELVES?”

The techs looked at each other before one of them uttered: “Our security was perfected to be impregnable, sir.”

Foster clenched his teeth. “If it were so impregnable,” he growled, “THOSE BASTARDS WOULD BE IN THE INCINERATOR BY NOW!”

He turned from the techs to the head of the integrated circuit control team. The woman ducked a bit, but Foster spoke calmly: “Show me data from today.”

She reacted swiftly and turned a monitor of her laptop towards him. “Here, sir.”

Foster leaned forward to have a look.

“As you can see, sir,” the woman stated, “if we collect data from the time and place of interest, there was no one unexpected around the cell. There was you, you left, and then just the guards, who remained on their positions until the alarm. It looks like the cell door must have opened themselves and those two just... walked away.”

“Just walked away,” Foster repeated sarcastically, “that’s brilliant. They walked away from prison and then simply evaporated.”

“It seems that’s what they did, sir. I don’t know how to explain this.” 

“Because you’re a useless shit,” Foster retorted, “show me footage from security cameras on that floor.”

“I cannot, sir. After that short power outage, cameras were out of order until we restarted them manually.”

“So, to sum up,” Foster clapped and tried very little to hide fury in his voice, “no one could see anything, no one could hear anything, nobody noticed anything out of the ordinary, yet two prisoners are missing! I’m supposed to report about this to Reid himself by tomorrow, what am I supposed to say? Not even the greatest imbecile would believe Queen is safe when foreign invaders can just walk out of their cells at random!”

It seemed Foster was finally out of breath.

The head of the guards seized the moment. “So... your orders, sir?”

“Somebody had to help them,” Foster replied immediately, “even though everything suggests otherwise. But I don’t believe in miracles or invisible men.”

“But how can you explain we saw nobody, sir? And how could anybody help them anyway? And why?”

The doubt was clear in the guard’s voice when he looked at his boss.

“We have too little information to answer that,” Foster replied. “We don’t know how it happened, it seems, but we know for sure it did happen. I want you to carefully scan everybody who gets in or out of this building. And we need twice as many people on the circuit control. From now on, we watch everybody in real time.”

“But sir!” the circuit control woman protested. “We don’t have enough people to do that! And our servers can’t manage real time transmit of this magnitude!”

Foster leaned towards her, so close she had to lean back, her eyes blinking.

“Just do it,” he growled. He didn’t even wait for answer and headed towards the door. “Times are changing,” he announced, “remember that. From now on, enough is no longer enough. I can sense a mistake. Your job is to find it – and remove it.”

He banged the door shut.


	12. Get down... play Scrabble

Brian woke up abruptly. 

He sat up, startled, though in the first moment he couldn’t figure out what disturbed him so. From behind the curtains red shine of Almira still illuminated the room, giving it a spooky touch.

He needed a moment to realize where he was and how did he get on this sofa.

Suddenly he heard it again. It came from a bathroom – the distinct and unmistakable sound of someone vomiting his guts out. Bedroom door were open.

“Roger!” Brian called out, but there was no reply, only more of the same. He jumped out and hurried towards the bathroom, just flimsily throwing his robe on.  
Roger was there and looked terrible. His face appeared ghostly pale with dark shadows under his eyes. He was hanging off the edge of the bowl which was already half full of vomit (and worse), looking dangerously close to a collapse.

“Oh God...,” Brian whispered. 

His host turned to him and opened his mouth to say something, but heavy heaving forced him to quickly turn back to the toilet.

“Shhh, it’s okay... just let it out,” Brian mumbled and reached for Roger’s hair to keep them out of his face. “Looking back... giving you the biscuits wasn’t the best idea.”

Roger spit into the bowl for the last time and turned to Brian.  
“No shit!” he rasped. His voice was weak, face twisted and blue eyes glistening with tears and anger. One of tiny vessels in Roger’s left eye broke and the blood coloured half of the sclera bright red. 

Brian gently took him under his arms and helped him get up from the floor. 

“Here... that’s it... wash your mouth...”

Roger did as he was told, shaking like a leaf, leaning against Brian, whose own gut was twisting with an increasing pressure of guilt.

“Do you have some medicines I can give you?” he asked practically. Roger pointed to one of the bathroom cabinets, so Brian propped him against a wall and rummaged through the kit until he found what he searched for. Luckily, effects of the various pills were clearly written on their boxes.  
Roger was clutching his stomach, bent in spasms, and swallowed what Brian gave him without complaints.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Brian decided, “here, lean against me...”

Roger whimpered and turned to him slightly. “Brian...?”

“Yes, Rog – OUCH!”  
Sharp pain erupted in his face.

 

It’s quite a lovely morning, Jim thought with a smile, leaning back in his chair, sipping on breakfast. Lovelier than usual, because Freddie didn’t work that day and came down to the cellar to distract Jim from his solitude. Jim loved both Freddie and Roger, being protected by them and protecting in return. It seemed to him that the strangers from yesterday had the potential to fall into the same category. He was curious as to how Roger survived the night. Freddie and his guest (should he call him John or Deaky, he hadn’t decided yet) seemed to be both alive and well. He looked up from his laptop to give them a glance.

Freddie and John were sitting against each other on the sofa with sheets of writing foils in their hands, apparently trying to play some game Jim didn’t quite understand.

John looked deep in thought.

“Perhaps... 4E?” he asked.

Freddie grinned. “Missed.”

“How could I miss?” John chuckled. “What the hell of a shape does your ship have?”

“Darling, I did it as you told me!”

Before John could answer, the door opened again.

Jim smiled. “Good morning, Roger, Brian.”

Both players turned to face their friends. The smiles froze.

John bit his lip.  
Freddie simply gasped, but also couldn’t hide a bit of a giggle. “Darling, what on Queen happened?”

“You don’t want to know,” Roger growled and dragged himself towards his seat. His face was worn out and slightly greenish and he was still clutching his stomach.  
John couldn’t miss the suspiciously guilty look on Brian’s face. Speaking of Brian’s face... it was decorated by a large purple black eye. It was a strange combination with his curly hair, made him look like a crossbred of a panda bear and a poodle. Poonda? Pandoodle?

Jim cleared his throat. “Well... I’m glad you’re both... here.”

Brian nodded. ”We’re also glad.”

“Trying a makeover, Bri?” John teased.

“Is it too bad?” Brian touched his black eye gingerly with a side glance on Roger. As if anyone had any doubts about the author. “How was your night, Deaky?” he added quickly before his friend had even a chance to give his evaluation.

“Great, actually,” John admitted softly with a smile. 

Freddie lit up. “It was my pleasure, darling.”

Roger just grumbled something. 

Brian was quite surprised to see John looking so comfortable after a night spent alone at a stranger’s place. They knew each other for a while after all.

John continued: “We ate, we talked, Freddie sang and then we found an old Scrabble box among Freddie’s museum stuff.”

Brian blinked. “Scrabble?”

“Yes, you remember the app? Here it was in an actual box,” John laughed, “we tried to play it but... it turned out to be quite impossible. So, we settled for Battleship.”

“That reminds me,” Freddie jumped into it and turned to Jim, “from now on, you’re Miami. Not Jim, but Miami Beach.”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”

“Yes, darling John told me it was a beautiful place on Earth, before sea levels rose,” Freddie beamed.

“It’s a beautiful bay now though,” John shrugged.

“You can’t just change his name,” Brian protested, “listen, Jim-”

“Miami,” Jim corrected him, hiding a grin.

Brian sighed and thought how many things Jim had to be through with Freddie and Roger that a change of a name based on a whim seemed like a self-evident matter of course.

Freddie tried not to look too cocky. “We can try the Scrabble thingy later. Perhaps with more people it’d go better.”

John chuckled. “It won’t, if you don’t admit you’re making up words, Freddie.”

“It was a word, dear!”

“No, it wasn’t!” John protested. “Thopsnot is not a word! Not on Earth, not on Queen, not on any other planet in the galaxy!”

“Of course, it’s a word!” Freddie argued. “Roger, darling, is it a word or not?”

Roger glared at him. “Yeah... it is. It means ‘a guy who sleeps on your sofa and tries to bloody poison you’!” He shouted the last two words.

Brian flared up. “I didn’t-”

“You poisoned me!” Roger exclaimed.

“You punched me!” Brian retorted.

“You poisoned me!”

“Unintentionally! I just wanted-”

“I don’t care!”

“That’s enough!” Freddie put himself in the argument with authority that surprised both Brian and Roger and shut them up. “It sounds like quite the night for you,” he continued, “and I’m sure none of you meant harm. So, I think you both should apologise and let this go, so we can finally listen to whatever Miami has for us.”

Brian and Roger looked at each other.

“I’m really sorry,” Brian started, “I had no idea that would happen, I swear.”

Roger took his time with an answer. “It’s... ok, I guess.” He avoided all eye contact and hypnotized a crack on the wall instead. “I didn’t... well, I did want to punch you, but I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Freddie nodded in approval an turned to Miami. “So – what’s new with you, dear?”

“So...,” Jim started, “the disappearance of you two,” he nodded towards Brian and John, “is being investigated.”

Brian nodded. “That could be expected.”

“Do they have anything?” Roger asked. 

Jim shook his head. “I hacked into their internal network. It seems the escape is kept as a top secret, which works for us, limiting their options and slowing them down. Today there’s supposed to be a meeting where they decide on strategy. It seems our cover had been effective.” 

“You’re a genius, dear,” Freddie smiled, “do you think you’ll get to whatever will be talked about on the meeting?”

“That’s impossible to say,” Miami leaned forward in his chair a bit, looking a bit lost in thoughts, “the rescue might have been successful, but the more we use our methods, the more we put them on display. They surely must have realized their systems had been meddled with. No one can guess what sort of precautions they take from now on. Which means,” he looked over the whole group, “I will do my best to keep up with Sheffield and his programmers, and you... you don’t do anything too stupid which would force us to use our defences in a risky way.”

“Got it,” Freddie nodded. The others agreed as well.

“We’ll need to go shopping soon,” Roger spoke up, “if that’s in the limit of inconspicuousness. Curly’s got one set of clothes and even that’s small for him. Unless he just keeps my bathrobe indefinitely.”

“You know I’m right here,” Brian pointed out, letting his slight exasperation out.

Roger’s eyes went wide with surprise. “Are you?”

“Clothes shopping is a must,” Miami quickly intervened, “as long as we keep off the main streets, I don’t think walking around the town should be too dangerous.”

“Lost in a crowd,” John remarked.

“Exactly. However,” Miami continued, “there’s something I need you guys to do first. You see,” he turned again to Brian and John to explain, “we’ve got several transmitters hidden around the city. That makes it possible for me to create a blind zone in the place I want it and keep it localized on people even while they’re moving. I need someone to change batteries in one of them.” 

Roger straightened up. “Which one?”

“Ridge Hill.”

Freddie clapped. “We better get onto it then.” He turned to John with a wink. “Ridge Hill is a lovely place, some ten kilometres out of town. It’ll be a nice trip for us all.”

John returned a timid smile. “Sounds good.”

“They’re not going with us!” Roger protested.

“Don’t be silly, darling, of course they are. How else we’d get to know each other?”

“But-”

“Excellent. Let’s go, everybody,” Freddie jumped up, looking like he wished nothing more than to spend his days changing batteries with an annoyed friend and two foreigners wanted by law. 

 

This place really doesn’t look half bad, Brian thought, as they slowly walked up the hill. It took nearly an hour of drive through the tortuous city streets, but once they left them behind, there were only dry hills and blue sand surrounding them. 

Roger parked the car where the road ended, and they walked another fifteen minutes on a small pathway before they passed a sign “Ridge Hill” and began their slow journey up.   
It wasn’t exactly a mountain or anything, but the loose sand under their feet, sharp slope and a hot sun above made the climb quite tough, at least for Brian and John.

“It’s really peaceful,” John remarked, a bit out of breath, as both astronauts walked side by side, Freddie and Roger some ten steps ahead, “much better than the town.”

Brian nodded and looked all over that endless parched land again.   
There was something wild and raw in it, he thought, in comparison to where they came from. The town, except for the shining Institute in the distance, looked quite dirty and neglected. Still, from this distance it had its charm, Brian had to give it that, no matter how reluctantly.

Even Roger looked better now, almost back to healthy colour, talking to Freddie and wildly gesticulating. Brian was too far behind to understand the words, but it didn’t sound angry.

“John?”

“Hm?”

Brian was carefully composed the question in his head. “Didn’t you notice anything... unusual about Freddie? While talking to him?”

John chuckled. “He’s one of a kind, Bri. And considering we’re on a different planet with different people and habits – can you describe unusual?”

“Well... it’s about sex.”

A raised eyebrow indicated John didn’t expect that answer. After a moment of silence, he deadpanned: “I’m starting to understand why you got the black eye.”

“What? No! It’s not about...,” Brian tried to explain himself better and for some reason he felt a blush creeping up on his cheeks, “... look, I asked Roger about a girlfriend or a boyfriend.”

“Oh, of course, you did.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

John shrugged. “I just know you for quite a time now, Bri. All the girls at the Moon Base Bar called you “the lonely romantic”. Everywhere you get, you find someone to pine for. Here it’s the blondie. And because he isn’t interested, you fancy him even more. You’re not exactly subtle, you’ve been staring at him this whole morning.”

“That’s not true,” Brian frowned, “I mean, he’s handsome, he’s incredibly intelligent, caring, really funny and you need to admit, it takes some guts to do what he does, all this thing with rebellion, saving our lives and taking the risk, there’s really, really something in him – but at the same time, he’s an insufferable pain in the arse. He takes me as such as well. And of course, I was looking at him, he’s sick because of me, I was worried.”

John sighed. “Please, Bri, don’t insult my intelligence. You like him.”

“I think I’m too married for that,” Brian retorted, “this is ridiculous.”

“You’re divorced, Bri,” John corrected him. “And anyway, as I recall your marriage has never been exactly an obstacle in cases when you-”

Brian inhaled sharply. “Deaky?”

“Hm?”

“You’re my best friend, truly, and I could never wish for anyone better, but sometimes you’re being an utter dick.” After few seconds of thought he added: “What made you so happy anyway?”

This time it was John’s turn to frown. “Why do you think I’m happy?”

“You’re being a dick,” Brian replied with a sweet smile. “You always are when you’re happy.”

John glossed it over with a soft laugh. “What can I say, it keeps me young,” he joked, “and don’t worry. You live at Roger’s place and you probably will for many days to come. If you don’t fuck it up with him from now on, it’s possible he-”

“He won’t,” Brian interrupted him.

John sighed. “Please, don’t tell me you already asked.”

“Of course not! What do you think I am?”

“So why are you so sure-”

“They don’t do it,” Brian said plainly. “They don’t do it with anyone.”

John’s eyebrow nearly disappeared in his hair. “What do you mean?”

“I talked with Roger about it,” Brian lowered his voice even more, though Freddie and Roger were safely out of the hearing distance, “he doesn’t know what kissing is, he doesn’t know what dating is, he doesn’t know what sex is.” His teeth were so close together that “sex” sounded more like “shs”, but John managed to put the meaning together.

“Hm...,” John looked a bit taken aback, but his face didn’t lose its usual serenity, “... it makes sense, after all, considering everything we know about Queen. It makes sense.”

“It doesn’t!” Brian opposed. “There’s something weird going on here. They make children different way, but you don’t tell me no one would ever do it just for fun! Even if majority would choose not to do it, they would still know about it. They don’t have the slightest clue!”

“You’re overthinking this, Bri,” John sighed, “just admit he isn’t that into you.”

“I’m telling you,” Brian insisted, “I mean... there is something seriously wrong here. It should be instinctive! Every living being does it! Rabbits fuck, birds fuck, even fish fuck!”

“Yeah, but not all of them with you, do they, Bri.”

“Stop making this personal, Deaky, please. I’m trying to solve a problem.”

John stopped and crossed his arms on his chest. “Do you want my honest opinion?”

Brian nodded. “Please.”

“Okay – then stop making an issue of this,” John’s voice was sharp. “It’s not our place to judge these people or the ways they live. We have our mission clear and we’ll figure out how to contact Earth again. In the meantime, please, keep your zipper up. Or rub one out in the shower, but please, please, Bri,” now he looked a little anxious, “promise me you don’t do anything we’d regret.”

Brian looked like he wanted to argue, but then only nodded. “I promise.”

The serious moment of silence was interrupted by Freddie’s cheery voice.

“Come on, darlings, we’re nearly there! Everything fine?”

Brian noticed John’s eyes sparked as he called back on Freddie: “We’re coming!”


	13. I'm Screwing In My Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter full of drama, childish humour (I'm so sorry), and indestructible Roger Taylor. Enjoy!

“Look at the view!” Freddie exclaimed and held out his hand to help John make the last few steps to the top. His raven hair were flying in a sharp desert wind. Small particles of the omnipresent blue sand danced in the restless air and created little whirlwinds around him.  
He looks like a magician, John thought, accepting Freddie’s hand.

The Ridge Hill’s peak looked more like a crag than an actual hill. One side from which they came was gentle and coming down at an acceptable angle, the other dipped sharply and dangerously.

“You can see all over the Rusper Dunes from here,” Roger pointed. He had to shout to be heard over the sound of the wailing wind, which was slowly getting stronger, resonating among the hills and rocks. “When it’s not too windy, that is. You can see the plantations and maybe even the roofs of New Lynn, almost a hundred kilometres from here.”

“They can’t see it, Roggie,” Freddie pointed out, “it _is_ too windy. There might be a storm coming later.”

Brian frowned. “Shouldn’t we get out of here and take cover then?”

Freddie waved his hand. “Nah. It’s far from here. It’ll come in two hours or so. We’ve got more than enough time to do our thing. You see the clouds there- “he pointed towards the horizon. Brian squinted against the sun. Indeed, in the distance, it looked like a tall blue fog covering the ground. “- you can learn how to calculate it, when you consider the height of the sand smother and speed and direction of the wind.”

Brian and John stared at the blue cloud and Freddie kept explaining the sand storms, when suddenly Brian realized Roger wasn’t participating in the debate, unpacking their equipment instead. He can’t see it, he realized. All that pointing out plantations and towns in the distance was only meant to cover that “flaw”. He sighed.

“Are the storms too dangerous here, Roger?” Brian asked.

Roger looked up to him, surprised, and then shrugged. “Not really, unless you’re in the middle of a desert. Hold this, will you?”

Brian had to leap forward to catch the trowel Roger threw at him.

“It’s under those three rocks,” Roger pointed. “You can start digging.”

Fuck you, Brian thought, and glanced to John, who still hypnotized the storm while listening attentively to Freddie’s lecture. Then he sighed internally, removed the stones and got to work.

It took only a short while till the trowel scratched a metal surface.

“That’s it,” Freddie stood behind Brian’s back, looking over his shoulder. “Now take it out gently.”

It took another give or take five minutes of digging and cleaning until Brian took out a birdhouse-sized metal box.  
Roger was already by his side, a screwdriver in his hand. “Okay, good job, Curly. Step aside now, I’ll take the lid off.”

The box was secured by eight massive screws.

“I can help,” Brian objected.

Roger looked at him in confusion. “You think I don’t know how to screw?”

John snickered, and Brian looked at him, making an “I told you so” face.

Oh, whatever, he thought and said out loud, nonchalantly: “Considering everything... I might have more experiences in screwing. At least I’ve done it before.”

Brian May, you’re literally a ten-year-old, John’s face said. But Freddie or Roger didn’t seem disturbed, the latter only a bit irritated.

“I’ve screwed before!” he objected, his voice raised.

This time both astronauts giggled, which annoyed Roger even more. He knew he was being made fun of, he just for the world couldn’t realize where the catch was.

“Oh, really?” Brian provoked.

“Of course, I have!” Roger insisted. “Every time we fix our stations, or when something gets loose in my car.”

Brian raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. “So, you screw something loose in your car?” he asked casually.

“Yeah! All the time. It was second hand, you know. The permit is quite expensive.”

John was almost choking with supressed laughter, Freddie next to him genuinely confused.

Finally, the lid was off. Freddie handed Roger the spare battery and the exchange itself didn’t take more than two minutes.

John covered it with sand again. 

The wind was getting stronger, throwing the desert dust in their faces.

“We should get out of here,” Freddie decided, getting close to the sharp edge, looking towards the storm. “It looks quicker than usual. The transmitter is working again, that’s important.”

”Wind’s getting nasty,” Roger agreed, standing next to him. 

“Don’t get so close to the edge,” Brian pleaded, “the sand’s flying everywhere.”

Roger ignored him, squinting, trying to focus his eyes on the distant sand fog. 

“Should we hide in the car or start it up and get behind the city windbreaks, Fred?” he wondered, frowning.

“Hide,” Freddie decided. “I have no desire to end up dragging your little precious out of a ditch when it’s over.”

Roger made one more step towards the edge. “Does it really go that fast?”

John was getting nervous. “Can we just get out of here, please?”

“Of course, darling,” Freddie reacted immediately, “Roger, we’re going.”

The blond was still blinking furiously, trying to see further than his eyes really could.

“Roger!” Brian called.

“What!” he turned around angrily. “I’m just – aaaaAAAAH!”

One wrong step back was all it took.

“ROG!” Freddie screamed and leaped forward, only to be held back by both Brian and John.  
Roger disappeared over the edge in an avalanche of loosened sand. The whole edge of the hill practically fell apart, the debris falling down the sharp slope.

“We need to get down there,” Brian shouted, “quickly! Take care!”

They rushed headlong downhill, nearly tripping over their own feet.

“ROGGIE!” Freddie screamed the moment they got to the hill’s base, running to the mound of sand, stones and debris that fell from the top.  
Brian, using the advantage of his long legs, was the first one to get there and to see a helpless arm and a mop of blond hair sticking out of the sand.

“There!” he exclaimed and started digging around the trapped man bare-handed.

Roger’s face was free within seconds and to Brian’s endless relief the blue eyes met his.

“Brian...?” Roger mumbled hazily.

“I’m here,” he whispered, “are you hurt?”

Before he got an answer, Freddie and John appeared by his side and immediately took their places to get Roger out as quickly as possible. John was making use of the trowel they had.

Soon, after several minutes of hard work, Roger’s both arms and torso were free. Unbelievably, except for several bruises he seemed so far unharmed and even helped digging around impatiently, itching to get out of the sand.  
The storm was slowly nearing.

“If you grab my hands now,” Roger suggested, “you could just pull me out, no?”

Freddie nodded and took his left arm immediately, aided by John, while Brian took Roger’s right.

“Alright, dears, three, two, one-”

They pulled, but besides getting a scream out of Roger, there was no effect.

“We need to hurry!” John sounded desperate. “Let’s try again. We need to go more upwards.”

“No,” Brian argued, “he’s stuck under an angle, we need to go more forwards.”

“Go to hell, all of you!” Roger spat. “You’ll tear my arms off!”

“We’ll try at least one more time, darling,” Freddie decided, “brace yourself. Try to wiggle.”

“I’m wiggling my arse off and nothing,” Roger huffed. “Okay then, try again.”

“One, two-”  
Suddenly, Freddie froze and listened, all the other three as well. It was an unexpected, deep, rumbling sound they couldn’t localize.

“Is it... the storm?” Brian asked carefully.

Freddie shook his head. “No storm.”

The sound was getting louder. It was almost as it were... coming from the ground.

“Guys...,” Roger piped up, trying and failing to keep his voice calm, “I feel like... something’s moving under my feet.”

“What do you-”

Before Brian managed to finish the question, the muffled sound turned into a loud roar and the ground under them opened.  
They could tell only they were falling through, cold sand everywhere, in their eyes, nose, mouth, and all around them.

Brian was losing the last oxygen he had left, pressure around suffocating him. He could only feel he was falling still, slowly letting the black unconsciousness come for him.  
Then he hit a hard ground. 

 

Dull pain spread lazily through his body, he couldn’t really find a source of it and to be honest, he wasn’t really attempting to. There was a sand on his face, he realized that. And oh, yes, he could breathe, which surprised him quite pleasantly.  
Suddenly, someone pulled his hair.

“Brian? Brian!”

His eyes fluttered open. In the darkness surrounding him he recognized the voice.

“Deaky?” Brian moaned. His whole body ached. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” John replied shortly. Brian could recognize his friend’s silhouette in the faint light coming down the hole they fell through. The ceiling looked at least seven meters high. Luckily, their fall was moderated by all the sand.

Brian sat up. “Roger?” he called. “Freddie?”

“We’re both here, dear,” voice replied somewhere from his right. “We’re good.”

Thank God, Brian thought and exhaled shakily. He tried to stand up and to his surprise, he succeeded.  
The other three were already standing in the dim light the hole provided. He was relieved to see that, besides some bruises, contusions, scratches and ten years’ worth of peeling, they all appeared unhurt.

“What is this place?” John asked shakily. His voice resonated around.

Brian made several wobbly steps towards the wall. It was completely smooth and glossy, so was the ceiling and the floor.

“It looks like a reinforced sandstone,” he informed them. “I read about it. They use extreme temperatures to turn the sand glassy, so it’s firm and holds shape. My guess is we’re in a mine of sorts. The impact of the sand up there cracked the ceiling of the uppermost level.”

Roger frowned. “Mine? There aren’t supposed to be any mines here. The closest are in Oadhinn, and that’s bloody far!”

Brian only shrugged.

In the meantime, John tried and failed to climb the pile of sand which fell in after them. Walls were impossible to climb either.

“We’re stuck,” John glumly stated the obvious. His quiet voice echoed as if the mine itself was mocking them. The tunnel went far into the darkness to both sides.  
Freddie fumbled with his pocket and took out a phone. 

“We need to let Miami know,” he decided, “and he can have some idea what to do. I mean, with two wanted men with us we can’t just call for any help or wait for somebody to appear.” 

Roger was sceptical. “You want to call him from this hellhole?”

“Stay positive,” Freddie mumbled and climbed the pile of sand as high as possible.  
This time, they were lucky.

“Miami!” Freddie exclaimed happily when the connection was made. “You wouldn’t believe how great it is to hear you!”

“I’m glad,” Jim replied, his voice a bit careful. “What is it, Freddie?”

He was on speaker, so all the four men could hear clearly.

“Well... we managed to exchange the batteries, darling.”

“Good. And?”

“And then Roger fell from a scarp, so we went to dig him out, the ground collapsed under our feet and long story short, we ended up trapped in a mine of sorts.”

There was a short silence before Miami sighed. “I’m starting to see the problem. Are you alright?”

“We’re all fine, dear, we just need to find a way out.”

“I’ll look into it. Give me a minute.”

Brian exhaled in relief and looked back at Roger, who sat down, back against the wall. He was honestly impressed, Roger managed to fall from quite a height twice in a short period of time and be half-buried in a sand - and yet it seemed no real damage had been done. Like a cat with nine lives.  
John still stared at the hole as if he hoped it could bring it closer.

The dark place was starting to feel claustrophobic.

“I have something for you,” Miami suddenly spoke.

Freddie leaned in eagerly. “Yes?”

“There is only one mine complex that could be around Ridge Hill. Very old, very, very old, very out of order.”

“You don’t say,” Roger snarled quietly.

“What mine complex?” Brian inquired.

“Rockfield Mines. Before the Catastrophe it used to be a source of-”

“Rhenium!” Brian interrupted him suddenly. “I remember the name. The rhenium was for export to Earth, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Miami confirmed. “The mines disappeared from all maps during the Catastrophe, entrances and many corridors closed by landslides. I imagine the rest of it must be quite unsafe.”

“Ugh, thanks,” John mumbled.

Freddie seemed to be getting impatient. “Miami, dear,” he started, “I’ll be thrilled to hear all about the history and geology of this place once we get back home, but for that we need to get out of here first, so how we do it?”

“I think your best bet will be to find a hole like the one you fell through. As I said, all the entrances are caved in.”

“Are you joking?” Roger blurted out. “That’s your advice? Just go and hope for the best?”

“I’m sorry, but I think that’s your only option.”

Roger was ready to argue, but Freddie intervened: “We’ll go. In the meantime, darling, please, try to find anything that could help us.”

“Will do,” Miami promised. “Good luck, boys.”

The calls ended, and Freddie slid down the pile of sand to join the others. They looked at each other helplessly. Roger took out his phone and threw light towards the dark corridor. They could see give or take three meters ahead.

Brian exchanged glances with John. There seemed to be the same thought on both of their minds: We’re screwed.


	14. I'm Getting Slightly Lost (and Found)

“This is bollocks!” Roger complained loudly, getting a collective groan as an answer.

“Whoever is the nearest, please, slap him for me,” John sighed.

Brian was undecisive on the issue. On one hand, they would do much better without Roger loudly expressing his opinions on the situation every ten minutes, on the other, he kind of agreed. 

He couldn’t tell how long it was since they started their journey through the tunnels, getting increasingly desperate to find the way out. The darkness around them was cold, thick and encompassing and the dim light of Freddie’s phone did a very insufficient job in chasing it away. The only sound around was the tapping of their steps, besides that, silence embraced them.  
The air was getting colder, but it didn’t even resemble the damp cold of Earth’s caves, here it was stale and stuffy, making their mouths and noses unpleasantly dry.

It would be an overstatement to say John wasn’t bothered by the situation but being imprisoned in cold darkness with a considerable risk of dying had been a part of his very job for years. Without even looking, he took Freddie’s hand and felt it shaking, as the poor man was doing his best to keep himself together. John gave him what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze and a smile, though they couldn’t see each other’s faces that well.  
And all the complaining from Roger was most likely his coping mechanism. Maybe he shouldn’t have shushed him.

“I remember something similar happened to me... I think six years ago,” Brian contemplated out loud, apparently attempting to break the oppressive silence.

“Yeah?” John didn’t really care but tried to make a conversation.

“Yeah. They just transferred me to join the crew of Silver Salmon, which was supposed to do a new mapping of the far side of Quaoar. That’s a cubewano in Kuiper Belt, something like asteroid belt in outer Solar System,” he added in Roger’s general direction.

“And what happened, dear?” Freddie asked instead. 

“One of your circuits failed. Luckily, all the systems were transferred on the backup source, except for the board lights, so we found ourselves in complete darkness. And because I was the newbie, I got the pleasure to crawl through service shafts to find the faulty generator and fix it manually to get the lights going.”

John frowned. “You did it? You didn’t have a tech for that?” It sounded like his very own professional pride had been offended.

“Oh, we did have one,” Brian laughed, “sturdy guy, about a hundred kilos of muscle, no way he’d fit his shoulders through the shafts. But I had him on line, telling me what to do. Tim was furious, I remember.”

“Who’s Tim?” Freddie seemed to get invested in the story. Or he’d simply take anything what could distract him from their situation.

The dark corridor now appeared to go down a bit, which wasn’t a good sign at all.

“Tim Staffel was my captain at the time,” Brian explained, “we did few missions together before I got promoted and transferred away, but we stayed friends. We both played guitars as a hobby, so we formed a duo to perform for others every time we managed to meet on the base. Good superior, fair, funny guy, little too... folky for me, if you get what I mean. You met him, Deaks?”

“I saw him with you, the evening we first met,” John reminded. “You played together in the MBB.”

“Oh, yes,” Brian recalled and chuckled, “that evening I remember.”

“You try to tell that story and I strangle you with my bare hands,” John warned.

“Oh, please, darling, do tell!” Freddie insisted cheerily.

“Basically, Deaky-”

“No,” John interrupted him. “No, no, no, no. No story.”

Brian knew all the small nuances in John’s voice and decided not to tease this time, so instead he continued: “So... after some time he had to leave, and I played with Deaks instead.”

“You played in public?” This was the first time Roger joined the debate, and Brian was alarmed to hear how weak his voice sounds. He was also further behind than Brian thought him to be. “That’s childish.”

Brian frowned and took the light from Freddie to look back at the blond. “It’s not childish. We had fun, people around had fun. And you should stop spurning things you know nothing about. That’s childish.”

“Calm down, Bri,” John stopped him, “you can kill each other over this later.”

Roger caught up with them, walking with an obvious limp. 

Freddie frowned in concern. “What’s with your leg, Roggie?”

“Nothing!” Roger spat. “Now we’re going, or you decided to starve to death on the spot?”

Brian didn’t answer and squatted next to Roger to have a look instead.

“You’re bleeding!” he exclaimed, a mix of fear and annoyance in his voice. “Why the fuck didn’t you say something?”

“And you’ve got what exactly, a magic curly patch?” Roger grumbled but hissed in pain when Brian lifted his trouser leg. The whole calf was swollen, dark purple, and a deep bleeding tear in the upper half seemed to brutally cut in the muscle. Brian guessed the leg had got stuck and pressed between some heavy stones after Roger’s first fall.

“How do you even walk with this thing?” Brian exclaimed incredulously.

“I’m so sorry,” Roger replied sarcastically, but the pain in his voice was more audible than before.

Freddie stepped in, his face pale, and bent down to Roger as well. “We need to fix it up, at least with some fabric, shirt or anything!”

He already wanted to use his own when Brian stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
“This was a rhenium mine...,” he said.

Freddie nodded, but couldn’t hide an irritated expression. “Yes, but what does that have to do with Roger now?”

“There is something more about rhenium mines I remember.”

“Fascinating, darling, but-”

“Rhenium deposits are hard to locate with normal sensors,” Brian continued unphased as if not interrupted at all, “which means they are the only mines where human work couldn’t be exchanged for machinery. That’s why there were so many extra safety features and regulations-”

“Brian, I swear to-”

“- including roof-fall boxes.”

Freddie wanted to say something before Brian’s words got to him. Instead, John asked: “What are roof-fall boxes?”

“They should be placed in corridors every three hundred meters, if I remember it well,” Brian said, already looking around, “and should contain everything miners could need in case of an accident or injury.”

Freddie lit up. “You’re a genius, dear! What are we waiting for? Let’s go get one!”

He looked quite proud of himself before John cooled him down. “This mine is hundreds of years out of order, Freddie, there’s no way anything could survive so long.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Freddie decided. “Brian, you stay here with Rog. Deaky, darling, you come with me, we’ll search for it. If it takes too long, we come back for you.”

“I suppose you take the light,” Brian asked.

“Of course. So, you two better not wander away in the dark.”

Brian wanted to disagree with the plan, but Roger didn’t say a word of protest, he realized, so the leg must have been causing him more pain than he let on.

“You better sit down by the wall,” he told him softly, “while we still see it. Here, take my arm, I can help.”

“I don’t need your help,” Roger retorted weakly.

“Yes, you do,” Brian had none of it, “so you better do what’s good for you and stop being a little shit.”

Roger stared at him speechless for a second which Brian used to manoeuvre the younger man to the wall and help him sit down.  
Then he turned to John: “Don’t take too long.”

John sighed: “We’re back in a minute.”

 

They were not. In fact, they surpassed the time John promised at least twenty times, yet they were still walking further and further in the darkness, battery lowering dangerously. It felt as if the walls were getting closer, threatening to crush them alive.  
John could feel Freddie’s hand clutch his.

“Perhaps we should head back,” he suggested.

Resolutely, Freddie shook his head. “We should not. Not before we find something to help Rog.”

John felt a tiny stab of jealousy over Freddie’s words, which surprised him. Of course, Freddie and Roger were friends for years, he came on this planet literally yesterday. It felt so much longer... he felt he knew Freddie way longer. Felt like forever.  
Stop it, he reprimanded himself. It’s not like you, crushing on people, you’re not Brian for God’s sake.  
Still, he had to admit Freddie was the only thing on his mind yesterday evening when John secretly jerked off during his shower.  
But whatever, he comforted his own conscience, what could you expect from an adult man who spent last year and a half in a space ship with a strict no-coming policy? (That was something he and Brian agreed on after an accident which involved John, Brian, climax of a self-pleasure session, zero gravity and a ventilator. The result had been quite a scarring experience.) 

“Deaky? You’re crushing my fingers, dear.”

“Oh, sorry,” John stuttered a bit and hoped Freddie couldn’t see the blush he felt appeared on his cheeks, as if the older man was a mind reader and could hear his inner monologue. Luckily for him, Freddie indeed couldn’t, and definitely wasn’t. 

They continued in silence.

“What is that?” Freddie suddenly pointed towards the wall. Both men rushed to examine the discovery.  
No box for sure, but there was a long wobbly ladder attached to the wall, and a small copper sign next to it. 

For a moment Freddie studied the sign before he shook his head. “There’s something written, but I can’t understand a word.”

John took his light and leaned to the inscription. “It’s in German,” he recognized.

“That’s a language from Earth? Can you speak it?”

“Actually, I can,” he admitted and grinned while shuffling his feet a bit, trying to sound humble and modest, “I worked for the Euroasian Union for a while, as I told you. German is their second official language, after Britain made an exit in 2592. They were quite upset after all that bombing-” Suddenly he realized nothing of what he talks about makes sense to Freddie, so he got back to the inscription instead. “It says: A roof-fall safety box, in the shaft under the ceiling. Emergency only. Misuse penalized.”

Both men looked up and indeed they noticed tiny brick-sized shaft way on the top of the wall. At least ten meters high.  
The ladder was rusty and the dowels holding it looked questionable to say the least.

“You hold the light, Freddie,” John decided, “I’m going up.”

Freddie gave him a concerned glance, then looked at the ladder, then back at John. “Are you sure?”

John wasn’t very excited about the idea either, but the other option was to have Freddie do it and he’d be damned if he let that happen. He carefully stepped on the first rung. It let out a tiny creak and a small amount of rusty dust flew to the ground.

“Fuck,” John exhaled.

“Darling, let me-”

“No!” John grasped the ladder with more determination. “I need you to hold the light. If I fall and break my neck, you can have a go.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Freddie reprimanded him, biting his lip.

John breathed in and out for courage and started his climb. It actually went better than he expected. The fact that his eyes were firmly shut helped, as it was possible to ignore the rust crumbling and falling down in tiny soft flakes. Suddenly, there was no more ladder. He made it.

“Are you alright, dear?” Freddie called from down there.

“Yeah,” John reached to the shaft and grabbed his prize. For the first time since arrival he thanked God there were no animals on this planet, because it meant no spiders or other creepy crawlies. “I have it!”

“Brilliant, darling! Please, be careful!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll just slowly – oh!” The rung right under his foot collapsed and took the lower ones with it. John yelped and in the last second, he grabbed one of the two vertical rods and clang onto it for dear life. The box fell on the ground with a bang.

“John!” Freddie screamed.

Deaky breathed heavily, cold sweat freezing around his spine. “I’m fine!” he called. “Coming down now!” 

He was fine, at least physically. If something, he felt a bit ridiculous, climbing down the rusty rod like a cross between a sailor and a pole-dancer. He tried the latter several times, mostly when drunk, and didn’t like the reminders of it.  
Finally, he was low enough to hop down and immediately got crushed in a hug.

“Fred...can’t... breathe...,” he squeezed out before Freddie let go of him.

Freddie lift his hand with the light and evaluated John critically from head to toe. “Darling, your hands bleed!”

John looked down on his palms. Indeed, there were several cuts and scratches surrounded by all the rust and dirt. It occurred to him if there is something like post-exposure vaccination on this planet, he’d take all of them twice or thrice, thank you very much. For now, he wiped the hands on his trousers.

“Come now, we need to do something proper about it,” Freddie insisted.

John chuckled. “It’s nothing hot water won’t fix. I mean, what else do you want to do, kiss them better? We need to save bandages for Roger.”

Freddie frowned and took John’s hands in his. “Kiss them better? What do you mean?”

Oh. John wanted to slap himself for even mentioning this. To be honest, when Brian talked to him about the issue, he thought his friend had been exaggerating, but it seemed now... he’d been deadly serious.  
John finally found the courage to look into Freddie’s eyes again. They were nothing but honest and curious, with a hint of confusion. And yes, they were beautiful, that too.

“Kissing is... touching something with your lips,” John explained awkwardly, “and you don’t really-”

But Freddie already pulled John’s hand closer and pressed his lips against the injured palm. He lingered there for a bit before repeating with the other hand.  
John shivered at the sensation, cursing himself for reacting like a teenager. There was something in the honesty and innocence of Freddie’s gesture which got him in a strange, new way. Dammit.  
Freddie was staring at the scratches as if he expected them to close at the very moment.

“We should get back to Brian and Roger,” John pulled his hands out of Freddie’s, getting back to his distant comfort zone, “hopefully they haven’t strangled each other yet.”

 

Roger and Brian sat next to each other, the utter and complete darkness embracing them. Brian couldn’t think of anything to say. Well, anything that wouldn’t sound stupid.

“It’s really dark,” Roger muttered suddenly. “You’re really used to this?”

On the other hand, maybe he had been too hard on himself.

“Not exactly this dark,” Brian answered, “but I guess I’m more used to it than you. You don’t even have nights here.”

“Of course, we do.”

“Not like the ones I have in mind,” Brian objected, “Earth has just one star, the Sun, the next closest star system is 4,37 light years from us. Alpha Centauri. There are three stars in it – Rigil Kentaurus, Toliman, and Proxima Centauri. The first two are binary – just like Alba and Almira here.”

“They’re far from Earth,” Roger commented.

“Not nearly as far as Queen but... yes, far,” Brian admitted.

“So, that means... when Earth turns from the Sun... there is nothing?”

“There’s a night sky,” Brian corrected him, “far from nothing. It’s black, deep and you can see all the stars, small white dots organized in constellations. Sometimes, when the night is very clear,” he smiled involuntarily and lowered his voice, “you feel like you could just reach out and catch them, so close they seem to be. And yet in that very moment you realize, over and over, how tiny you are compared to the universe.”

Roger didn’t say anything for so long Brian started to become worried.

“Rog?”

“Yeah, still here, I’m... thinking,” he said quietly, “I don’t think I like night.”

“You’d change your mind if you could see it,” Brian insisted.

“I like day,” Roger opposed, “the shine, and the feeling of rays of light against my skin. It feels like... being alive, you know. Completely alive. No tiny faraway stars can give that.”

This time is was Brian’s turn to get silent. They could only hear each other’s breaths, and if they focused very, very well, Roger imagined they could hear Freddie and Deaky finding help and coming back.

“What you described,” Brian said suddenly, “about feeling alive...”

“Yes?”

“That’s how I feel when playing music,” he admitted quietly, getting to what he wanted to talk about for quite a while now. “It’s not childish, Roger.”

Roger sighed. “It’s something children do,” one could almost hear the frown in his voice, “I mean, I used to play drums when I was a boy, and I liked it, but one needs to grow up. And be useful to society. If you choose to keep playing with toys, that’s your business, but-”

“You miss it, don’t you?” Brian realized.

“What? No!” The reply came too quickly to be believable. It certainly didn’t fool Brian one bit.

“Just admit-”

“Leave me alone!” Roger shifted away.

The silence felt somehow deeper and if possible even less pleasant than before. Brian would give anything in the world for a chance to see Roger’s face. Or at least to know what to say and not make this all even worse.

Minutes ran, Freddie and Deaky nowhere. Brian felt an urge to get up and go searching for them, but he knew without a light it would be pure madness. And he couldn’t just leave Roger here.

“It’s cold,” Roger complained silently.

Brian blindly reached for his hand. Icy.

“Brian?”

“Hm?”

“Could you... keep saying something? Please?”

Roger sounded so broken and vulnerable Brian felt his heart swelling and blocking his throat.  
Suddenly he couldn’t find any comforting words, but got another idea, reminiscing the old days in Moon Base Bar, playing with Tim. Moments of happiness, without worry, so unlike this one.

“In the bright shop window sits the polar bear,” he sang quietly, his voice shaking a bit. 

He could feel Roger stiffen, but he didn’t tell him to stop. Brian went on more confidently: 

“Makes the children's eyes light up to see him there. Oooh, amongst the tinsel he gives everyone a smile.... to see him as you'd see a star... Love him from where you are... He's not for, not for, not for sale.  
I guess I'll learn to look without a grasping hand... minor contentment wears a smile... I love him from where I lie... He's not for, not for, not for sale... Not for sale...”

“Hello, there, darlings!” Freddie’s voice resonated through the corridor. “What do my ears hear?”

Light was getting closer and closer and soon Freddie and John stood in front of them.

“Do you have the box?” Brian asked immediately.

Freddie nodded. “We do. The bandages survived vacuum packed. And one more thing we found there.” His grin was getting wider. “We’ve got a map, dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Brian sings in this chapter is "Polar Bear" by Smile, written by Brian in 1969.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n4EdQIgIl6g


	15. Good Old Fashioned Hide And Seek

Hours. It was hours since they had fallen into the mine and a way out – still nowhere. After studying the map, they had decided it would be useless to go for any of the exits. Since nobody had heard of the Rockfield mines for several centuries, a chance any of the official ways would be accessible had been laughable. So, they had decided to head north, where the corridors seemed to be the closest to the surface. If the ceiling had cracked anywhere, that area was the most likely.

Buried alive in the dark, no sign for it to end soon. Freddie asked Brian several times to sing, then joined in with some songs on his own, and soon the two of them discussed what lyrics would be more suitable metaphor or where melodies feel flat. John stayed silent during most of the discussion, concentrating on the map, and it was all Roger could do to keep up with them, his carefully bandaged leg hurting like hell. True, Brian offered to carry him, but after few meters they realized it wasn’t really an option. And Freddie or John joining him to make a stool, that worked better, but made their progress painfully slow, even slower than Roger limping.

“How far, Deaky, darling?” Freddie asked when they crossed another junction.

“Not very. We must go...,” John leaned closer to the map, “... left. Or right... oh, no, surely left.”

Brian sighed. “Aren’t you holding it the wrong way up again? Just asking!” he added after John’s cold stare seemed to wish him an aneurysm or two.

“No,” John replied, and added: “Just answering.”

“Wait!” Roger exclaimed, and everyone turned to him immediately. “Look! The ground!”

All the other three glanced at each other in confusion, before following the direction Roger was pointing and examined the floor.  
Brian was the first one to understand, Freddie and Deaky not far behind.  
Everywhere in the mine, the floor was covered by a layer of blue sandy dust they waded through – here, however, it was firm and tamped down like a frequently used path.

“Somebody’s been here before us,” Freddie whispered, “more than one, and more than once. Which means they had to get in here some way.”

“Through the door,” John supplied.

Brian had to summon his remaining patience. “Yes, Deaky, most probably through a door, but we need to-”

“Through that door,” John interrupted him and pointed some five meters from them.

There were indeed, out of nowhere, heavy metal door just recessed into the wall.  
The four men looked at each other.

“They’ll be locked,” John guessed, but Roger already limped forward and grabbed the handle.

To everyone’s surprise, the door flew open immediately and a bright light after so many hours in the dark blinded them.

“Are we out?” Brian asked in disbelief.

Freddie stuck his head out of the door and looked around. “Not out,” he whispered, “this leads inside a building.”

Roger followed his example and then looked back at everybody, a frown on his face.  
“There is only one building I know of with corridors like these,” he said slowly. His tone and the look of his eyes told them the answer even before his words did. “This is the Institute.”

All the other three stared at him.

“How...,” Freddie whispered and added angrily, “how is that possible!”

“We had to get through these tunnels back under the city,” Roger explained, getting a stern look as a response.

“Why would your bloody Institute have secret door to a mine?” Brian exclaimed.

“We’ve got more burning questions here, Brian,” John folded his arms on his chest, lips pressed in a thin line. “Do we use the door or not? The whole RISUGI is searching for us, we got out of there literally yesterday – and now we just waltz back in? Not to mention we look... well, the way we look.”

He was right – as they were, dishevelled, dirty, covered in sand, beaten and bloodied, even the biggest idiot would consider them highly suspicious.

“We can’t just ignore this chance and wander through the mines, hoping for some convenient option,” Freddie insisted, his hand still on the door handle, “we need to risk it.”

Roger was thinking for a moment. “This is most probably the lower basement,” he said contemplatively. “That means no security cameras.”

“Why wouldn’t they-” Brian was confused.

Roger shrugged. “It’s just empty rooms and storages. And you have to go through the upper levels to get down here anyway.” His eyes suddenly lightened up with an idea. “But if we get to the basement of sector G, there’s a storeroom with clean uniforms. We could change there and then we’d have a chance to sneak out. I’m not spending another minute in this goddamn mine.”

“Roger is right,” Brian nodded towards the others, “that could be the only chance. And we can’t afford to waste time, not when some of us are hurt.”

No one had a better idea. Freddie quickly sent Miami a text asking him to create a blind zone, to which the man happily obliged.  
With an increasing feeling that what they’re doing now is really, really stupid, John was the first one to slip through the door, swiftly followed by others. They all shuddered at the loud bang the door made when shut.

“We need to find out which sector this is,” Roger whispered, “it’s written at the end of a corridor, usually.”

“Can you still walk?” Brian asked him, worried, as the light showed clearly how pale and worn out Roger looked, biting his lip every time he stepped on the wounded leg.

“As long as it’s out of here, I can walk,” the stubborn blond replied.

The corridor was empty, white, and the sharp light from strip lights hurt their eyes. In less than a minute tears were running down their faces.  
John took Freddie’s hand almost automatically, as they all sneaked along the seemingly endless line of door, trying to get to the end of it. The only sounds around was the one of their steps and a soft buzzing of the lights. It felt almost cartoonishly ominous.

“Freddie...,” John hesitated, before his friend’s expecting eyes forced him to finish the sentence, “... you’ve got sand in your hair,” he finished awkwardly.

Freddie chuckled. “Not just in my -”

“Stop!” Brian hissed suddenly. Everybody stilled. “Listen!”

They all heard it – a faint sound of an elevator approaching.

“Someone’s coming!” Roger whispered and quickly looked around. “Let’s get in here, hurry!”

Randomly he picked the closest door and they all rushed in.  
It seemed to be a conference room of sorts, one great table surrounded by chairs. No windows, obviously, and one whole wall was covered by built-in closets.  
Voices, more than two, sounded clearly from the corridor.

Freddie pressed his ear on the door, but quickly he turned to the others, face pale.  
“They’re coming here!”

“In the closet!” Brian wasted no time, grabbed Roger’s wrist and pushed the blond among some lab coats and cleaning supplies, then followed him.  
Freddie and John joined them promptly, pressing themselves in, so Brian found himself squeezed between John and the wall. There was also something warm and soft behind him, he assumed that could be Roger. Someone’s knee poked him uncomfortably.

Literally seconds after the closet door closed, several men entered the room. Only Brian was tall enough to be able to watch them through the ventilation at the top of the narrow closet.

At least ten men in the RISUGI uniforms entered the room and took seats around the table. That probably meant they didn’t plan on leaving any time soon. Brian sighed internally.  
They all seemed to know each other well, filling the silent room with sociable chatter, though Brian could feel an undeniable tension in the air.  
What the hell were all the men doing here? And why now? And how long can we last in a closet like that? His stomach clenched – how long can Roger stand motionless before his leg decides enough is enough? Will we get caught? Killed?

At least the first two of the questions were answered almost immediately, when the door opened again, and two more men entered.

All the others rose from their seats promptly, suddenly silent. Brian didn’t have a doubt all the respect belonged to the first one of the newcomers, such an aura of importance and authority surrounded him. Or maybe all the effect was created only by the behaviour of the others, as the man himself looked quite ordinary – like a banker or an office worker.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the man greeted the room and sat down at the head of the table.

Brian caught Freddie’s glance, the only face he could see from his angle, as Freddie soundlessly mouthed: “Reid”

Reid? As in John Reid? Brian quickly turning back to see more. John Reid. The head of the Institute and, as Brian understood it, practically the ruler of the Queen.  
And suddenly Brian realized he knew also the man accompanying Reid – nobody but their old acquaintance, Ray Foster.

Fuck... They were so so screwed. The only consolation could perhaps be that Foster didn’t really look that well but seemed stressed and tired. Brian guessed it had probably something to do with them – and it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

Reid turned to him and Foster nearly jumped up.  
“Are you sure, Ray, nobody unauthorized can spy on our conference here?”

Foster nodded zealously. “Absolutely sure, my lord.”

“Secrecy in this matter is of the highest priority,” Reid’s stare met each and every man in the room one by one (excluding the ones in the closet, naturally).

“That’s why I suggested, and you agreed, to have the conference here, in the lower basement,” Foster stated, “there are no cameras in here, so not even the workers of the security department itself know about this. Also the camera in the elevator seven is shut down for today, so no one could see us coming here.”

“Good,” the dictator nodded, “let us begin then.”

Brian felt cold sweat running down his spine and guessed the others were in no better state. An excuse “it was an accident” or “we were on the way out anyway” wouldn’t be really that effective here for sure.

“All of you already know why I called this meeting,” Reid started, “foreign invaders appeared on Queen again. And just to sum up the situation we’re facing – they appeared, were arrested, but disappeared mysteriously just before their execution. The head of Queen’s security forces, Ray Foster, will now explain that... interesting phenomenon.”

Foster wasn’t immune to Reid’s sarcasm and looked even paler than before, as he cleared his throat and took the word.

“The alien spaceship we’re talking about,” he recited what he had clearly prepared beforehand, “landed yesterday in the Khashoggi’s desert, on the south side of the Eighth Solar Panel Field, which they damaged significantly.”

Oh, fuck off, Brian thought, annoyed, we barely scratched them.

“A highly professional team, led by me, was sent right after the landing to collect those suspicious creatures and transport them to the Institute for an immediate execution. Our technicians took care of the ship, disassembled it and removed the remnants.”

Hearing that, John noticeably stiffened, and Brian feared for a brief second his friend would jump out of the closet and strangle Foster with his bare hands.

“They were locked in one of the highest security cells, A12,” Foster continued. “About an hour later, a fire alarm rang and the whole building experienced a brief power shortage. Both issues we resolved within a few minutes, but after the guards returned to their positions – the prisoners were gone. We have no security camera footage, circuit control didn’t find anything helpful and no one noticed anything or anyone out of the ordinary. However, my people didn’t neglect any security feature, all were running and fully functional.”

“That’s interesting,” Reid remarked and several other men chuckled, “do you have an explanation? There were no such problems with the previous ones, weren’t there?”

Foster shook his head. “Five years ago, the executions of the first men from Earth went smoothly, just as ordered.”

“So, what is your opinion on the current situation?” Reid kept asking, his tone sharp and unfriendly.

“My opinion is,” Foster inhaled deeply, “they had to have a help from the outside. Someone from this planet to help them – all this might be a part of a much larger rebel plan looking to overthrow our government.”

“That’s impossible!” some woman barked. “You’re only trying to hide your own incompetence! There can be no rebels, there aren’t and there won’t be any! Do you have any evidence whatsoever to support that claim?”

“The two men missing,” Foster retorted coldly.

“He might be right,” suddenly another man spoke, “as a head of the IT department I can perhaps offer the evidence of the suspicious activities we speculate about.”

Reid frowned. “What do you have, Sheffield?”

All the eyes were on the man now as he explained himself.

“Some time ago our department consulted the security about unexplainable viral attacks on our documents. Data are missing, data appear, data change. There is no visible connection between the deviations, it could be merely a mistake in our archive programmes but... it might not.”

Foster, encouraged by the help, took the word again. “Our people found information about one man only who could possibly be capable of hacking on this level, getting to the secured documents while covering his trace so... effectively. He was sentenced to death for his crimes three years ago.”

Roger inhaled sharply, but luckily no one could hear over the roaring laughter of the men in the room.

“Sentenced,” Foster tried to shout over the turmoil, “sentenced, but not executed!”

The laughter was gone.

“He escaped,” Foster continued importantly, “after a power shortage.” He left the information sink in. “I suppose we all can see the pattern.”

“If he escaped during a power shortage,” some other man remarked, “then it couldn’t be him who caused it!”

Reid scratched his chin thoughtfully. “If your speculations are correct, Foster, the man-”

“Jim Beach.”

“If Jim Beach really helped the earthmen escape and if he’s hiding them now...” John Reid hesitated, but then continued the sentence, “I want them found and I want them alive. We might just have a use for them.”

“My lord,” Foster protested, “they’re too dangerous to be left alive! All their differentness and opinions, their habits – they could dismantle our whole system!”

“You’ll do as I said,” Reid left no room for arguments, air of finality in his words, “I want them.” He stood up. “Those are my orders. Find Beach and those two spacemen, and I strongly suggest no more mistakes. The conference is over.”

With that, Reid left the room, slowly followed by the others.

 

For the next five minutes, which felt like forever, nobody in the closet dared to move. Then Brian slowly exhaled.

“Bloody bastards,” he mumbled.

Freddie finally summoned his courage and pushed the door open. “Come out of that closet, darlings, all of you,” he invited them and sighed, “I was suffocating in there.”

“What are we going to do?” John glanced back at Roger. “Continue to the storage and take the uniforms?”

Roger nodded, leaning against a wall of the closet, breathing heavily. His face was greenish pale and sticky with sweat, features twisted in pain, as though he were at the verge of fainting. He stood on the wounded leg and bit his lip to supress a hiss.

“Let’s go,” he jerked his head towards the door, “before anybody else gets here.”

Freddie and Brian looked at each other, both seeing Roger wasn’t in a state to... well, to do pretty much anything more than to lie down and stuff himself with painkillers.

“Roggie, are you sure, you’re-” Freddie started, but the sentence got interrupted.

“Sure what?” Roger spat. “It’s not like we can just sit down and take five! Let’s go! Now, please!”

“No,” Brian said suddenly, surprised by his own voice. All the wheels in his head were turning as another plan started to get contours. If they do it... but, hell, wasn’t this a suicide already.

Roger frowned. “No?”

Brian stepped back to face everybody and John recognized the shine in his eyes. This was either going to be brilliant or insane. Or both.

“We all heard Foster,” Brian started, “there are no cameras on this corridor and he had the one in the elevator disabled. We use this and go up.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Can you specify the “up”?”

Brian smiled. “On the very top. On the roof.”

“Why the hell, Brian?” Roger exclaimed. “So we can throw ourselves down to end our suffering?”

“Not if I can help it, but... Foster brought us here by a helicopter.”

John sharply inhaled, as he suddenly understood. “There’s the heliport on the roof.”

 

To be honest, Brian was concerned that they might run into someone and their whole plan ends before it begins. As the elevator door opened on the roof, he realized, they didn’t really have to worry about that.

Blue sand flying in the air hit them right into their faces, remnants of the dust storm dying down. The wind wasn’t that sharp anymore, but still, with the dust in it, no pilot in their right mind would fly in this weather if they could help it. Therefore, the heliport was empty, and several machines covered by tarpaulin stood there unattended. Perfect.

John gave Brian a concerned look but didn’t say a word. This was an action. Something they’d trained for long years and perfected during their space voyage. The absolute trust in one another, the way they synchronized with barely any words necessary. That’s what got them on Queen after all.

Quickly, they ran over the heliport to the nearest machine.

“Freddie, Roger, get out of the way!” Brian ordered. “Deaks, help me to check this one!”

John broke a lock on the machine’s door and got in. “It looks a bit like the old Bell AH-1Z,” he shouted, “will do?”

Brian ran around the chopper to check all the rotors and stabilizers. “Will do! How’s the battery?”

“Half charged, should last long enough!” They had to yell to hear each other over the wind, trying their best not to cough on the soft dust flying around.

“Get out and help me with the towing wheels, Deaks!”

Together they dragged the machine on the helicopter pad and dismantled the wheels.

“Get in!” Brian shouted at Freddie and Roger. “We need to hurry!”

Until now they watched the whole procedure wide-eyed, until Roger finally found his tongue.  
“We can’t just steal a helicopter!” he screamed.

“We are stealing a helicopter now!” Brian retorted. “Feel free to stay if not interested!”

Before Roger could respond, Freddie grabbed his forearm and dragged him towards the machine. John helped them in.

“Get to the back and find something to hold onto,” he recommended and slipped to the front, on a left seat.

Brian jumped in, banged the door shut and took the pilot seat, on the right side.  
“Check all the systems, Deaky,” he ordered. “Then shut the computer down. That way they can’t track us and with any luck it disables the black box as well.”

This was the first time John hesitated. “You want to fly this on manual only?”

“Do we have another option?”

“There’s still a sandstorm out there!” John protested. “Everything here is computerized – the altimeter, airspeed indicator-”

“If we use the computer, the control tower can track our signal,” Brian interrupted him, “the systems are bound on one another, it’s all or nothing. We’re flying on manual.”  
His voice sounded sure and firm, but John didn’t fail to notice Brian’s hands slightly shaking, as he gripped the cyclic and the collective while placing his feet on pedals that control the tail rotor.

“All systems shut down,” John announced after he fiddled with the control board for few seconds, “it’s manual only. We can fly now.”

Brian sent a quick silent prayer to whatever God was willing to listen and opened the throttle. The engines came to life, and to the high-strung men the roar was deafening.  
It occurred to Roger everyone in the Institute surely heard them and was going to shoot them down within the next few seconds. At least Miami’s blind zone still worked for sure. Subconsciously, he touched the place where the circuit was implanted behind his ear.

In the meantime, Brian slowly pulled up on the collective lever. The pitch of all the rotor blades changed simultaneously.  
Easy..., just take it easy... gentle... he kept thinking for himself, his teeth clenched. Having never driven this helicopter before, not even the type, he had no idea what sensitivity to expect from all the levers and pedals. And he knew way too well he couldn’t afford a mistake.  
The knuckles on his hand went white as he very slowly kept pulling on the collective more and more while pressing the left pedal.

Suddenly, they all gasped, as the machine left the ground.

“Rog!” Freddie exclaimed excitedly. “We’re flying!”

Brian felt the cyclic under his hand becoming sensitive. “Strap yourselves in, gentlemen,” he announced cheerily, “we’re getting out of here!”

And while still gaining the height, he pushed the cyclic and nudged the helicopter forward.  
In a matter of seconds, the whole Institute had been left far behind.

“Are you okay back there?” John asked and turned around to see the other two. Freddie and Roger only nodded, holding hands, both pale and wide-eyed. Roger looked like he was about to turn his insides out.  
John tried to give them what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but truth to be told, he worried. The dust in the air impeded orientation and without any of the systems, the odds for a safe flight and landing weren’t that great at all.  
He glanced at Brian. His face was the one of absolute concentration, hands on the cyclic and the collective tensed. Apparently, John concluded, the idea was to get in a safe height and use the clouds of dust to hide them from the eyes of people on the ground.

“Careful, Bri...,” he mumbled, “I think we passed the 1000. It’s getting colder.”

But Brian had already noticed, easing up on the pedal.

“What’s your plan?” John inquired. “They’ll soon discover the chopper missing, go search for it, find it and track our steps. That is, if you plan to get us back to the desert, which is the way we fly.”

Brian smiled. “They won’t track us.”

“How?” Roger asked from the back. “Sorry to say that, but I can’t exactly run anywhere.”

“You won’t have to. Deaky,” he turned to his co-pilot, “how much do you trust me?”

John looked into his eyes. “With my life, you know that.”

“Then I need you to do exactly as I say,” Brian urged him, “and you two in the back as well!”

Neither Freddie nor Roger were in the mood for a sarcastic comment, so they nodded.

“I want you to find something we can use to tie the cyclic and pedals!” Brian ordered.

Dutifully they looked, not seeing anything useful, before Roger shouted: “Will my bandages do?”

Freddie’s eyes nearly popped out. “You can’t take off your bandages!”

“Do you see anything else around here, Fred?”

“The bandages will do!” Brian decided, though he felt terrible hearing the soft painful whines as Roger started to undress his wound.  
They flew above the desert now, the town about two kilometres behind them. Luckily, the wind stopped, and dust kept settling quickly. They could see now the ground under them– small round dunes unsuitable for landing.  
John handed Brian the bloodied dressings. He put them in his lap for now, too busy with checking the ground underneath.

“When I say “now”,” Brian spoke loudly so everyone could hear, “John, I need you to open the door, take Roger and jump out with him.”

“You want what?” John gasped incredulously.

“I’ll try to get as low as possible and find some good spot,” Brian glanced at him, “you said you trusted me,” he reminded, “so please, do now.”

Unlike John, Roger uncharacteristically didn’t have any objections, accepting the order passively. His leg hurt so badly he figured jumping out of a flying helicopter might be just appropriate.

“And me?” Freddie asked.

“I’ll need you here with me, we’ll get out together.”

Brian scanned the ground until he noticed a convenient spot. He kept his eyes fixed on the horizon and slowly worked all the pedals, cyclic and collective to get them down. The ground was closer and closer quicker than John would like, but what could he do.

Closer, closer, it was only few meters now...

“Now!”

John unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped to the back, pulling hard on the door lever and pushing them open. A sharp wind and dust nearly blinded him.  
He reached behind to grab Roger’s upper arm and pulled him to the exit.

“Cover your head and curl into a ball!” John screamed to be heard over the roar of the motors.

And without further ado, he pushed Roger out, and jumped right after him.  
Brian didn’t even watch their landing, he pulled up on the collective, flying away.

 

The ground hit harder than John expected. The strong current from the rotor flipped his controlled fall and he landed flat on his chest.  
Panicking, he tried to breathe, but the air just wouldn’t go in. He got to his knees, feeling the sand under his hands, desperately gasping with no effect whatsoever. Chaotic dark spots started to dance in his vision, until some firm hand simply flipped him into sitting position.

“Shhh, try to calm down,” Roger whispered, gently massaging John’s upper belly. “The fall just winded you, you’re okay, shh...”

Suddenly the spasm relaxed, John let in a deep breath, and he’d swear that oxygen had never felt sweeter.

“That’s it,” Roger nodded, “in and out.”

“Tha-thanks,” John wheezed and gave Roger quick look. The blond seemed alright besides his already bleeding leg.

“How long was the fall?” Roger asked.

“Around three meters, I guess,” John shrugged, “Brian’s damn good. He used to be one of the best pilots in his squadron after all – now talking about the time he fought in the war, naturally, long ago.”

Roger frowned. “In war? You had a war there? And Brian was fighting?”

“I probably...” John bit his lip guiltily. “Look, just don’t mention it unless he does, okay?”

He didn’t really get an answer, as Roger stared at the sky, where the helicopter with Brian and Freddie kept gaining height and getting further.

“What is he planning, Deaky?” Roger whispered.

John only shook his head. “I have no idea.”

 

“Freddie! Come in here and take the bandages,” Brian ordered, and Freddie rushed to John’s empty seat.  
He squirmed a little before touching the bloodied dressings but took them without objections.

“What are you planning, dear?” he asked curiously.

“I’m holding my left hand on a cyclic lever now,” Brian instructed, “I need you to tie it to something, so the lever stays in this position.”

It took Freddie some time to find a convenient way how to do that, but eventually he managed.

“Done!”

“Great. Now the pedals.”

For that Freddie had to squeeze between Brian’s legs and under, luckily both men were quite skinny. Now the machine kept its direction up and forward without Brian’s input.

“There’s a parachute under my seat,” Brian continued, his eyes fixed on the view out, “put it on.”

“What about you?” Freddie asked, alarmed. “You don’t intend to-”

“I’ll just have to hold on to you,” Brian gave him a light, nervous smile. “I guess that’s not how the parachute’s supposed to work, but I think the both of us combined make just the weight it had been calibrated for. Now hurry.”

Freddie didn’t waste another minute, getting the parachute on and fastening all the straps in a flash.

“Count to three after we jump,” Brian instructed him, “then pull this,” he pointed to a colourful strap hanging out of the backpack, “to open it, understood?”

Freddie swallowed. “Yes. Just... hold me tightly.”

Brian grinned and firmly embraced Freddie, gripping the straps. “Try not to drop me.”

Three... two... one... They jumped.  
The helicopter continued its way up while Brian’s and Freddie’s fall was caught in time by the parachute. It was white, contrasting with the blue sky.  
“Relax your knees when we get down,” Brian whispered, his long legs gangling helplessly while he used all his upper body strength to cling to Freddie, who held him so tight Brian worried for his ribs.

They landed with a soft thud. Brian let go of Freddie immediately, collapsing on the sand, while the black-haired man needed a while to handle the parachute.

“Yes!” he exclaimed cheerily. “We did it! We did it, Brian!”

Brian rose to his knees, breathing heavily in distress. “God...,” he muttered.

Freddie came closer to him, frowning. “Is something wrong, darling? We did it. You did it,” he added, admiration clearly audible in his voice.

“Just...,” Brian whispered, “... I just hate flying in atmosphere so damn much...”

He shook his head and forced himself to look up. “We need to bury the parachute and walk home,” he stated, “I suppose we’re some two to four kilometres from town. Soon the helicopter rises into thinner air and falls. Hopefully it’ll make them search for us way over there.”

Freddie only nodded, and they stood in silence for a while, looking up. Almira was slowly taking over the sky, the red light above the desert giving a breath-taking image.

“Can I ask you something?” Freddie said suddenly.

“Yes?”

“Why did you let Roger and Deaky jump together? And let me help you here? One’d guess you’d pick him.”

Brian sighed. “Roger is hurt, so it couldn’t be him. And Deaks... I trust him to take good care of Rog.”

Freddie raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t?”

“Even if it included pushing him out of a helicopter?” Brian replied. “I trusted John to do that. Maybe you would too, I don’t know you, Freddie. But I know Deaks.” An involuntary smile escaped him. “He became a legend of sorts even before I met him. And after that he even exceeded my expectations. I’d put my life into his hands – and lives of others as well. One of the best I’ve ever got to know.”

Freddie listened carefully. “I see.” He clapped. “Let’s bury the parachute, darling. And then we walk, and you tell me all about him, please. And Earth. I want to know everything there is to know.”


	16. Dreamer’s Hour

John Deacon wasn’t a neurotic person, and he felt immensely grateful for that. Had he been one, his nails would not only be bitten short by now, but completely gone, possibly along with his fingertips. Not to mention his lips would be very possibly chewed open and bloody.  
The only thing showing his distress was the motionless worn-out expression on his face.

“Why don’t they have tea on this planet?” he muttered, walking around Roger’s kitchen, waiting for his algae extract to get hot, “no wonder it’s so fucked up.”

He shot a short glance towards the bedroom, where Roger slept, exhausted by the adventure and large doses of painkillers, his leg treated and freshly dressed. It’d been hours. John kind of envied him.

Where the hell were they?

The yellow daylight behind the tall windows almost completely supressed the red one. New day. 

Damn you, Brian, John thought angrily, plopping down on Roger’s sofa, deciding it was far less comfortable than Freddie’s, even though seemingly at least three times more expensive. John had absolutely no doubt Brian would do anything in his power to keep Freddie safe. He had to! They had to be alright, they just had to!  
John squirmed, as if he were trying to release the uneasiness which settled in his stomach like a large boulder refusing to move. 

He got up quickly and decided to check on Roger.

Sleeping soundly, hugging his pillow. Lucky bastard. The glass of water Roger used to swallow his painkillers and sleeping pills, plus three empty wrappings from his “vitamin” shots (what was the drug called again? DHA?) laid forgotten on the nightstand. John cleaned it up, to have at least something to do. Then he returned to sitting on the sofa and changed position at least five times.

He’d wanted to stay at Miami’s, but he had to take care of Roger while Jim refused to come out of his cellar, browsing the Institute’s communications network to track how the search for the missing helicopter was going. He only laughed when Roger and John informed him that his name was being discussed at the conference. 

Another rough day for Foster, John thought gleefully. That helped cheer him up a little. 

I could prepare some DHA for Freddie, he realized suddenly and jumped up to get some from Roger’s stock. Roger was almost crying for it when they got home, Freddie might be in similar state, as they both took the thing daily. John wasn’t really a fan of any chemical pick-me-ups (good ol’ Cuppa Tea not included), but he thought that as a man coming from a planet with coffee, alcohol, tobacco, marijuana and all the illegal ones, he really didn’t have a right to judge. Besides, this seemed harmless, despite Brian’s opinion on the matter.

He placed several pills, two wrapped shots (no need to overindulge him) and a glass of water on the kitchen table.

God, he was tired. It was as if his body and reason were trying to shut his eyes, while anxiety, fear and anticipation kept them wide open. 

Check on Roger. Sleeping still. 

He returned to the sofa and laid down, hoping to get some sleep as well. He bloody deserved it after all. Brian and Freddie nowhere to be seen. No sleep. Great, now he’s getting a headache.  
John knew what always made him feel better in situations like this. But... he couldn’t do it here. Couldn’t, shouldn’t, and won’t. Even though he really wanted to.  
He let his mind wander freely and tried to recall the last holiday with Ronnie, his ex-girlfriend. They went to Cinxia space station for five days to have a look at Jupiter’s red spot. They’d argued about it, he remembered. He wanted to go to Earth, find a nice spot and enjoy himself somewhere under the sun, with sea, sand, and palm trees, but she said she wanted something exotic. 

Freddie would love to go to Earth. The unexpected thought emerged in John’s mind. He was sure he’d love it. The image was clear as day. Himself, in his swimming suit, under an umbrella, sipping some cocktail, Freddie by his side – and Freddie would be laughing and talking about everything they saw that day, happier than ever. And in the evening, when it gets colder, they would snuggle together under the starry sky, pressing together, their hands trailing each other’s bodies... John felt a surge of heat in his lower abdomen, adding to the soft heat which was warming him for a while already. He remembered the soft, coy touch of Freddie’s lips on his hands. He wanted to feel them again. More. He needed it. The imaginary Freddie on the beach just smiled timidly, but the hot and rapid breath betrayed him. His gentle hand cupped John’s cheek and with a soft whispered “darling” he pressed a kiss to his lips. John blissfully sighed at the thought, and the kiss lasted in his mind, getting more and more heated, burning, fierce and needy, like nothing could ever tear them apart, Freddie sneaking his hand under John’s bermuda shorts, touching and fondling.... John let out a moan and...

Knock on the door. 

John jumped up, startled, jerking his hand away from his crotch as if burned.

The knock sounded again.

“Who is it?”

“It’s us, darling, open the door.”

“Freddie!” John gasped without even thinking about it, rushed to the door and yanked it open.

“Glad to see you too, Deaks,” Brian smiled dryly. Both him and Freddie, well... looked like people who spent more than a day roaming around a mine, breaking in a secured building to hear a top-secret conference, stealing a helicopter and then another one walking through a desert.

Freddie caught John’s hands and squeezed them. “Deaky, darling, are you both alright?”

“We’re fine,” John assured him, and couldn’t stop a wide grin from spreading on his face. And also, a blush, as the heated beach fantasy stayed pretty much on his mind. “Are you hungry? Or thirsty? I left some food under the thermolid.”

“Darling, we’re starving,” Freddie assured him, “but I-”

“There’s some of that pick-me-up of yours on the table.”

Freddie gave John a quick hug before hurrying to the table, already rolling up his sleeve. John prepared himself to face Brian’s look of disapproval, but his captain had other things on his mind.  
“How is Roger?” he asked quietly. “How did it go?”

“Smoothly, I dare say,” John replied while brushing Brian off to get rid of as much of sand as possible before they wenr further in the flat. “It took us about an hour to get back to the town, then I forced Roger to a hospital and let Miami know about what happened. Then Rog returned, all wrapped and fixed, and now we’re here. He’ll be alright in a week or two.”

“How is he now?”

“In his bed. Sleeping.” As John suspected, Brian headed for the bedroom immediately. 

They found Roger exactly as John left him ten minutes ago, curled under a blanket, his face so smooth and peaceful he could easily pass for a little boy. 

Brian slowly exhaled and moved one of the blond strands falling across Roger’s face.  
“Thank God,” he whispered. “I worried he could... I worried about both of you.”

“We’re good,” John assured him. “Both of us. And you can speak up here, he swallowed so many sleeping pills a bomb wouldn’t wake him.”

Brian looked at the motionless man on the bed again. “Poor Rog... was he in too much pain?”

John shrugged. “Truth be told, he was the pain. Pain in the arse, here and there, to be honest... he didn’t take the pills, I gave them to him. He wouldn’t calm down otherwise. He insisted we need to go, get his car and go searching for you.”

“You drugged him to make him shut up?”

“For his own good!” John defended himself. “And I also have only one set of nerves, you know?”

Brian slowly exhaled and put a comforting hand on John’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Deaks. All is well, we’re here, all of us.”

“Yeah, I know... and I’m grateful.”

After a moment of silence, John looked up to Brian. There was a tension in the older man’s face, noticeable only by those who knew him well. Tension going deeper than simple nerves or tiredness.  
“You should eat something, Bri,” John said softly.

“No, I just... maybe later,” Brian waved his hand, “I need a shower now.”

“Are you alright?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I be?”

Brian smiled cheerily, and an exasperated stare pierced him, but when John spoke, his voice sounded kindly. “Bri... I was planning to take Freddie and go to his place, but I can stay, if you need me to. The helicopter-”

“I’m fine, Deaky, I swear. I can manage.” And because John still didn’t look convinced, Brian added: “I might take some sleeping pills later.”

“Don’t overdo it.”

Both men left the bedroom, leaving Roger to his sweet slumber.  
Freddie was just finishing dinner, drowsy and happy after his dose of DHA.

He grinned. “Deakyyy...?”

John raised an eyebrow. “Freddieee?”

“Brian told me the most fantastic things about you,” Freddie winked.

John turned to Brian so fast everybody could hear his neck crack. “What did you say?”

“Not that,” Brian assured him, “calm down. Just about the Fairy King thing.”

“Fuck you,” John mumbled, suppressing a yawn.

“You mispronounced thank you,” Brian corrected him. “And if I could give a word of advice, go to bed. You look positively ghastly. Not to mention you’re getting grumpy.”

Freddie got up and nodded. “Let’s get you home, my dear. And bed is yours this night, no arguments.”

John managed only a nod. They were right, with Freddie and Brian safely home, he had to force his eyes to stay open.  
“Good night, Bri. Are you sure you don’t want me to-”

“I’m fine,” Brian emphasized the last word, “one hundred percent.”

John only sighed. “Try to get some sleep. Good night.”

“Good night, Deaks, Freddie.”  
With a soft, melancholic sigh, he closed the door behind them, suddenly feeling alone.

 

Roger woke up abruptly and had to take a minute to realize what happened and where was he. In his bed, right. Home. What time? Who cares, anyway. He just wanted to sleep again, but the dull ache in his leg and dryness of his mouth made it quite difficult.  
As he was reaching for glass of water on his nightstand, he nearly jumped up in shock when he realized – he was not alone in the bed.

“Brian...,” he whispered, half in surprise, half as a question, staring at the unmistakeable mop of curls.

Brian was laid at the very edge of the bed, on the covers, not under them, and fully clothed. Some part of Roger’s brain supplied Brian had to doze off when watching over his sleep. He wasn’t sure what to do with the information.  
But immediately he realized that it wasn’t neither his thirst nor his leg what really woke him.  
Brian shook again, as if in spasm. His whole body seemed tense, high-strung and damp with cold sweat, face an image of a dread and desperation – with eyes firmly shut. Roger could see the eyeballs moving quickly underneath the thin eyelids.

“No...,” Brian suddenly whined painfully and writhed, dragging on the blanket. “No... no...”

Roger just stared at him, not knowing what to do. He never saw anything like this, not anyone, ever. He knew nightmare-riddled boys in his childhood, nothing like that could stay secret in their dormitories, but this was different. Intense, ghastly, unexpected. His heart ached a little at the sight – a man like Brian, the tall, strong, proud genius, Roger thought, who got them out of Rockfield mines and out of the Institute (in a bloody helicopter!), betrayed and tormented by his own mind. It felt wrong. Bad and wrong.

What should he do? Wake Brian up? He considered the option and decided against it – for multiple reasons, the main one being, he had to admit, that he really didn’t feel like having a deep conversation with the curly man about why was he being nightmarish in his bed. Then what? He might just leave the bed to Brian and move on the sofa himself, no big deal. A sharp pain ran through his leg when he moved it. Nope, this won’t do. Besides, it would feel very much like running away and abandoning a fr- ... an accidental acquaintance. 

Roger’s throat tightened when Brian let out another moan and a whimper. His cheeks were wet. Was he crying? In his sleep? 

Not really knowing what to do, Roger patted Brian’s head awkwardly.  
“There, there, Curly,” he whispered, “could you, please, stop this? I don’t know how to help here and honestly, you’re kind of spooky like this.”

Big spasm ran through Brian’s body and he started sobbing again. “No... no...”

“Ehhh,” Roger decided to take his hand this time. “Please, please don’t. We’re okay, you’re okay, no need for this.” Whatever the hell it is. 

Brian whined softly, but it seemed the sound of Roger’s voice was calming him down.

Roger decided to persist. “We’re okay, we’re safe, Brian, we’re good. You can sleep. Calm down... calm down...”

Interesting how quickly one runs out of ideas in situation like this. Roger felt beyond awkward, when he recalled the song Brian sang for him back there in the mine. Eh, what the heck, as good as anything. Even though the melody was far easier to recall than the lyrics.

“Yaaady, yaaady, yaaada, yaada... polar bear,” crooned Roger, feeling like a moron. What even is polar bear?

But Brian’s asleep and no one else is here, so who can laugh on him, right? Points for trying are a thing, after all.

“Teedy, yaady, teedy, yaady, see him there...”

It’s working, it’s working! 

“.... ooh, he gives everyone a smile... you see him like you’d see a star... not for sale...”

Brian’s body seemed much more relaxed now, and no more crying, moans or whimpers. Roger couldn’t remember any more of the song, so he started again. The sleeping man didn’t seem to mind.

“... not for sale... gives everyone a smile... you see him like you’d see a star... somewhere in desert, there is my car... hopefully not too far... it’s not for sale... on a road made of tar... crazy man that you are... saying you play a guitar... missing the night ‘cause of binary star...”

Roger stopped when he noticed Brian’s deep, regular breathing and calm peaceful face. Job well done. He smiled and tried to retreat and lie down again, but Brian kept holding his hand firmly.

“Ugh...,” Roger groaned, “alright, then I’ll hold you.”

The only way how to make that possible while being able to sleep (preferably with a blanket), Roger discovered after few minutes, was to press himself on Brian from behind and hug him tightly. He didn’t dislike it as much as he thought. In fact... the feeling of another body warming him was something he could get used to. Maybe it could may be sorts of a regular thing... but that’d require discussing it with Brian, which was something Roger swore to himself never ever to do.

He didn’t even notice when exactly he fell asleep.


	17. Sweet Sister

It had been two weeks since the incident with Rockfield Mines, and the days since then followed a sort of a routine.

Every morning, Freddie went to work in the Queen’s Museum of the Known World, steadily building up the anthropology section to be the most extraordinary and bombastic of them all. He had to admit, he might be one of the only two people interested in the section at all. But he didn’t care, as the other enthusiast was only person whose opinion he considered important.

All day long, Freddie’s hands and steps were led by quiet advices John had whispered to him the evening before. And when others asked why Freddie arranged something this way or rewrote an information sign that way, he only smiled.

They had long conversations about Earth regularly every night, and though John still preferred to be more of a listener than a talker, under Freddie’s targeted questions his barriers simply melted like butter during a hot day. He found himself enthusiastically explaining everything he knew or remembered from school. He was happy, relaxed, and energized with Freddie, and God, it felt good. And if Freddie ever caught John staring at him with a strange expression in his otherwise calm face, or blushing at the most inconvenient moments, well, he just accepted it as John being John and never questioned it.

 

Meanwhile, Brian spent the two weeks tending to Roger and his wound, which proved itself to be nearly as stubborn its owner. It was a mess, and Roger didn’t help by insisting on doing the maximum by himself. That often resulted in the weakened leg giving up, and subsequently Roger being carried back to bed and re-dressed by his exasperated self-proclaimed nurse. Brian learned many interesting swearwords along the way.  
Finally, they settled on a compromise – they’d go out for a walk and buy Brian some clothes that really fit him at last, but Roger must take his walking stick and tell Brian whenever his leg starts to hurt. Brian didn’t think Roger had even considered honouring the last part of the agreement, but whatever.

 

“And I say, you look ridiculous,” Roger insisted for at least a fourth time as they walked down the street. He glared on poor passers-by as if they were directly responsible for his guest’s lack of fashion sense.

Brian paid him no mind. He was quite intrigued upon discovering that the uniform-like garments Roger wore were reserved for the employees of the Institute (and Freddie, occasionally, as he seemed to have a habit of borrowing Roger’s clothes when he felt like it). The rest of the population dressed much more practically, the sunny weather considered, into light flowy fabrics of various cuts. You could combine those with long trousers or skirts, that depended purely on your own preferences, sex didn’t play any role in these choices. Nevertheless, Brian vehemently refused when Roger attempted to make him wear one of those skirts, claiming it looked like a nightie, which led to an argument in the middle of the clothes shop.

So, here they were, Brian shining in a white shirt with long, wide sleeves and snug black trousers. The only part of his wear he felt unhappy about (also known as the one victory Roger scored today) was a hat. Even though Roger also wore one and a half of the Queen’s population with him, Brian couldn’t help it – the hat reminded him of a tea cosy. But Roger’s argument, that the Institute would recognize Brian’s hair should anyone see it, was convincing.

Brian shrugged, tugging on his sleeves, reacting on Roger’s previous statement. “You agreed it’s an option.”

“But a bad one!”

“You’re right,” Brian spread his arms in frustration, “these clothes are hideous, I hate them, we should return them and spend the next few hours going through all that hell again, trying to find something else we’d actually agree on.”

Roger was thinking for a moment. “You look awesome,” he assured Brian after a pause, and the curly man tried very hard not to preen.  
Two to one for Brian.

They haven’t discussed it, but neither of them felt like going home just now, so Roger just led his guest through crowded streets of the city centre.

“This... this is the largest square we have,” Roger pointed, “the Reid Square. And there’s the Central Bank, the orange building. And if you go around that corner, there’s a guy who can fix any broken gadgets, but no one talks about it as he’s only supposed to sell keys...”

Brian kept looking left and right to all the directions Roger was pointing out. To be completely honest, he still found the town quite ugly, dry and plain, but the centre, with all the people walking around, chatting, shopping and meeting each other... that had at least a hint of familiarity. People are always the same, no matter the country, continent, or the planet. He looked around carefully if he could spot some couples but there weren’t any. No families either, not even one. He missed teenagers snuggling on the street corners with their first loves, he missed young parents with strollers, boys and girls running around, playing imaginary games.

He kept thinking about it, while they slowly walked through the centre and out of it, getting into an area of blocks of flats, crooked streets, small squares, and parking lots. Roger reluctantly used his cane, leaning against it more and more, his face twisted in discomfort.  
Naturally, Brian noticed.

“Roger?”

“Hm?”

“Uh... I’ve got a terrible headache, could we perhaps stop and rest for a bit?”

Roger said nothing but obliged, and they both sat down on a nearby bench. For a while, they were silent, side by side, watching people go by.

“That building,” Roger said suddenly, pointing to a large house across the street, “is the Central Childhood Centre. I grew up in there.”

“You grew up in there?” Brian repeated surprised. “How?”

“How people usually grow up,” Roger chuckled. “Everything starts at RISUGI, in the IReS, Institute’s Reproductive Sector. The whole process takes around 280 days before the baby is finished. Then they are transported to one of the Early Care Centres, the closest one is in New Lynn. And when the children are four years old, they come to childhood centres – and stay till the age of eighteen. There’s six of the centres just in this city.”

“And you lived here.”

“And I lived here,” Roger confirmed. “It still feels like home in a way, though... I like the current state much better. There was six of us in one room, just no privacy whatsoever.”  
Brian exhaled slowly. He already knew how they made children on Queen, he knew the system, but he never truly realized... He recalled his father, a strict but just man, who loved his son more than anything. They built Brian’s first guitar together. And father was always there to fully support him, when Brian started his long passionate talks about reaching the stars. And mum, his sweet, caring mum... His parents, always there... until they weren’t. But they had made him the man he was, and that mattered. Gave him so much... And Roger, Freddie, or any other person on Queen... had nothing of that. No warmth of home, no loving memories to cherish, no goodnight kisses and hugs. Only this, Brian looked up to the building with disgust, Central Childhood Centre.

“This is just so sick...,” he mumbled angrily.

Roger gave him a sharp look. “You know, Curly, just because you disagree with something-”

”I know what I’m talking about,” Brian raised his voice a bit, trying to make Roger understand his point. “You cannot see it, I know, but believe me, you have no idea how wrong this is! Children on Earth are being born into families for a reason. That’s how we learn the important things, the ones that matter. It’s our mothers and fathers who make us who we are! They are part of us, way more than just donors of our genes. That’s what family is, nothing is more important than that, and I should know – I have a son, and I would give my life for him!”

“You’re impossible!” Roger barked. “You have no right to judge our ways like this! What you say isn’t true, and even you don’t mean it!”

“Of course, I mean it, Roger! Every word!”

Roger retorted sharply: “Oh, really? Why are you here, then?”

Brian opened his mouth to answer angrily, and then closed it again. He was confused.

“Why... why am I here? What does it have to do with the issue?”

Roger pressed his lips together. “You really can’t see it, can you?” he asked after a moment of silence, his eyes letting out angry sparks. “Sometimes I don’t know if you’re just deluded or so big-headed you can’t even see on the tip of your own nose? Or hear what’s coming out of your mouth, for the matter?”

“What are you talking about?”

But Roger was just getting started, as if he were letting out something he had held in for weeks. “Since you’ve arrived, you criticise almost everything I do, you judge everything I let out of my mouth. You keep saying how I don’t understand how everything’s better over there, we do this, we do that, we’re the best! And in the meantime, you’re nothing but a bloody hypocrite! You say you have a son, and that’s alright, nothing wrong about that, one day I’ll have one too, but do you honestly mean what you say? You’re repeating over and over how our mothers and fathers don’t care, but where are you now? And where is your son? If you care so much, why aren’t you with him?”

Brian felt like somebody pierced his lungs with a burning blade, slowly letting all the air out until there’s nothing left to breathe. He only stared at Roger.

“No, it’s not like... no...,” he whispered, “it’s not like that, I... love Jimmy, I... You have no right to speak like that! You have no right to do this!”

“Right back at you!”

“You wouldn’t understand!”

“Because I’m just so stupid, am I not?” Roger mocked. “Can you be any more conceited? You know, maybe I’m not always the easiest person to be around, but I was honest with you, since the beginning!”

“Do you really want honesty?” Brian’s blood pressure suddenly spiked. He had enough. “Believe me, I’m more than happy to indulge you.”

Roger folded his arms on his chest. “Humour me.”

“Do you really know why I’m telling you all about my home? About how it works there? Might it be because you have no bloody idea what you’re doing? This whole thing with Freddie and Miami, besides saving me and John you haven’t done a thing towards your goals. Hell, do you even know what your goals are, exactly? You need to know where you’re heading before starting the journey, which is something you all somehow failed to realize. What exactly is it you want? And how exactly you plan to achieve it? Despite all the things you’ve done, on bigger scale you achieved nothing, and if they catch you, you’ll die for nothing!”

“Go to hell!” Roger exclaimed, tears in his eyes. “Go to hell, Brian bloody May!”

“Already there!”

They glared at each other furiously and only the strange looks of the passers-by made them stop. Sitting on a bench in the middle of the street, they realized they couldn’t afford to draw too much attention towards themselves.  
Brian breathed deeply and slowly, they way NASA’s space psychologists taught him. It was supposed to calm one down in situations of an acute stress. What Roger said hurt. Really, truly hurt. His family, Chrissie and Jimmy, were a sore spot he learned to hide and supress, shut it into the deepest chasms of his heart. Nearly no one knew. And who knew, Deaky, for example, learned ways how to comfort Brian in the moments of despair and insecurity. Roger did the exact opposite – he ripped his soul out, brutally, mercilessly, and showed it to him bleeding and bare. Brian felt himself shrinking under Roger’s stare, naked, exposed, vulnerable. He hated the feeling... but as tears entered his eyes, strange... he trusted Roger. The realization shocked him. He wanted to stay bare. He wanted to open, he wanted Roger to know... to understand... everything... It scared him. A lot, because he never felt this way before. Not with his wife. Not with his family. Not with any of his friends. And certainly not with any of his occasional crushes. Only Roger. Roger whom he wanted. Roger whom he couldn’t have. He couldn’t touch, he couldn’t kiss, but he craved to give... to give all of him. And to take all of Roger in return. All or nothing, with no chance of reverse. Was it even possible to want such thing? He shivered. God... God help me...

“Jimmy...,” Brian mumbled, “I... we didn’t really plan on having him.”

Roger listened attentively, still frowning, but silent.

“I was twenty, back then,” he whispered, “I just started studying astrophysics, my dream, really. I dated Chrissie for a short time, when she came to me, saying she was pregnant. I couldn’t just leave her to deal with it alone, and I didn’t want to leave her, I loved her. And the baby. So... we married. I had to interrupt my studies, so I could work to take care of them, but it was getting harder and harder... I never made it back to the university.” Here he hesitated. About that part of life, he never talked. He couldn’t, and he wouldn’t. Not even now.

“And then?” Roger asked silently.

“I was working, on various places,” Brian said vaguely, “far from my family, jobs were hard to find, I saw no other way. I thought my life was over, all my hopes and dreams just... gone. Until NASA offered me training and a job. I took it, even though my wife hated me going to space. I didn’t care at that point,” he admitted, “I didn’t listen. The further I was from home, the easier it was not to think about what I left behind. I found new places, new people... And most of the time, I was happy. Truly happy. And in time I was able to send Chrissie enough money, so she could buy a house with a garden Jimmy could play in... enrol him on a good school... make him happy. Even this mission here – Chrissie didn’t want me to go. She said she refused to sit at home, not knowing if she was a married woman or a widow. So, we... divorced. But I didn’t back down. I had my own reasons why I wanted to go, more than one, and also – Deaky and I, we got twenty million UCs for it, each,” Brian shook his head, like he still couldn’t believe the sum, “and Jimmy’s going to get it all, if I don’t return, once he’s twenty-one. I arranged that. I told myself I was doing it for him. But... maybe you’re right. I was just a hypocrite. A stupid hypocrite. And a bad father for ever leaving him.”

Roger kept staring at Brian’s face, searching for any kind of clue what was going on. This reminded him of those several nights he had to get up to Brian talking and crying from his sleep. The same rawness. And helplessness.

“Is he... is he healthy?” he asked hesitantly.

Brian looked at him in surprise and nodded. “Yes, as far as I know... he is,” Brian smiled. “Healthy and clever boy.”

“That’s all that’s required from a father here,” Roger said, “I’d be happy if I knew I would have that one day. You gave him a good life, but it’s his to live.”

“I didn’t do enough,” Brian shook his head, “it’s not enough.”

Roger said nothing, but hesitantly, he took Brian’s hand. “I wish...” he started but shook his head.

“What is it, Roger?”

“I want to show you something,” Roger blurted out and nearly jumped up from the bench, “come on.”

As if he feared he’d change his mind if he waited one more minute, Roger darted out down the street, Brian in his trail.

“Roger, where are we going?”

“Just come, quickly, it’s always this time of day.”

“What...?”

Swiftly, they crossed the street, and hurried around the Childhood Centre. To Brian’s surprise, behind the building there was a large playground surrounded by a fence. A group of children around the age of twelve was there, playing something resembling football.

Roger sighed and reached to his pocket to take out his glasses. This, more than anything, convinced Brian that the moment was of an utmost importance.

“They always come out to play, every second day at this hour,” he said quietly. “I watched them long enough to figure.”

Brian frowned. “Roger... why are you stalking a bunch of twelve-year-olds?”

“That girl in blue shirt, can you see her?” Roger pointed through the fence. “Blonde hair?”

Brian quickly identified who Roger was talking about. “Yes? What about her?”

Roger bit his lip. “I... three years ago, when I saved Miami, he let me have a look into some of Institute’s otherwise inaccessible documents. Among them, there were data about genetical anomalies, faulty chromosomes, family histories and pedigrees of all the people on Queen. I had a peep in there, and I... That girl’s name is Clare, and she’s... she’s my sister. I looked her up, I searched for her... and I found her.”

“Oh, God...,” Brian breathed out. “Does she know?”

Roger shook his head. “Nobody knows, only Freddie and Miami, and now you.” He looked at the girl again, a bit pensively. “It’s funny,” he smiled, “there isn’t a single reason why should I care. She’s just a child. I’ve never even talked to her, I never saw her face to face. And yet... I feel like... there’s a bond between us, me and her, even though we’re apart, like you and your son. It’s blood, but... more than that.” He looked up to see Brian’s face. “You told me I didn’t know what I wanted. Here... that’s the honest answer. I don’t know how to do it exactly, you’re right, but I’ll do anything in my power to create a good world for her to live in. I must. I am... I am scared, Brian,” he admitted quietly, “when I’m thinking about everything we do – and everything we need to do... I’m scared. And I have doubts. But that doesn’t change anything. I have to do it, for myself as well as for her.”

They were looking at each other, and there was something new about the way they looked. The understanding, their secrets shared, souls bared to the bone.

Brian nodded. “And you will do it, Rog, and do it well. All of us together.”


	18. Third Man

“Brian, you check your phone one more time and I swear to God, I’ll end you,” John said calmly, not even looking at his friend. “He’s a dentist, not a bomb disposal expert, he’ll be fine.”

They were both at Miami’s cellar, while Freddie and Roger went off to work – for the first time after the injury, in Roger’s case. That made Brian a dangerous cocktail of bored and worried. He tried to hide it by curling on Miami’s sofa and reading a several-hundred-pages-long book about Queen’s history, but constant glances on his new phone gave him away (“remember, just text me or call me, if anything happens, Roger”). 

John was sitting behind computer with Jim Beach by his side, trying to learn some tricks out of the hacker’s kitchen. Brian’s constant fidgeting made it quite hard to focus though.

“Brian, seriously!”

“What is that, your time of month?” Brian snapped back, irritated. 

“We’re trying to open a port 42, not exactly easy to do, you know,” John sighed, turning back to the screen.

“And besides that?”

Both John and Miami looked up. John frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It feels like... you’re not yourself lately, Deaks.”

John only shrugged and focused his attention back on the computer. “So... we get to this stage and I either find the port open or-”

“John Deacon!” Brian exclaimed.

“WHAT?”

“Could we talk outside for a moment?”

After a silent exchange of stares, John obliged. Both men excused themselves to Miami and walked out of the door.

 

Once on the grey dark corridor, John turned to Brian with arms folded on his chest. “Well, what is it?”

“You tell me,” Brian fired back.

“I’m fine!”

“I can tell you’re not.”

“I-“

“Deaky,” Brian grabbed John’s shoulders, firmly but not unkindly, “I admit I can be self-centred from time to time, but I’d be a really terrible friend if I hadn’t notice. Something’s bothering you.”

John sighed and turned his eyes to the ground. “Considering the situation, it would be weirder if nothing bothered me. We have no ship, we have no transmitter, we have no plan. That’s bothering me.”

“In the last two days?” Brian insisted.

“What is this, an Inquisition?”

“John...”

John sighed and leaned against the cold wall. In the shadows of the poorly lit corridor he looked tired. His back was hunched, as if his greatest desire were just to disappear on the spot. The wish wasn’t granted, however, and a pair of piercing hazel eyes kept watching him.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he mumbled, “Bri, please...”

“I would never.”

“Three days ago,” John said abruptly as if he wanted the sharing to be over as quickly as possible, “Freddie had a day off, so we went for a walk behind the city, to the desert. To sing.”

“To sing?” Brian repeated carefully. “In the desert?”

“I asked you not to laugh.”

“I’m not laughing!”

John wasn’t convinced, but continued. “I... you cannot imagine how amazing the day was, and Freddie... you know... I like him. I really like him.”

Brian nodded. “I thought so. But... you had a great day with someone you like, why is that a problem?”

“Because it’s driving me insane!” John exclaimed. “You have no idea! He is one of the greatest people I’ve ever met, the kindest, the most considerate, clever, talented and just having him around is heaven and I should be grateful for ever even meeting him, I know that, just to be beside him... but... I just can’t help myself but... try and do things that would ruin it all.” He rattled it off twice the normal speed, afraid he’d lose courage in the middle. “I want... him. I want things from him I shouldn’t want. At least to touch him, at least that.”

Brian sighed. “And he won’t let you, will he?”

“He did let me!” John’s cheeks looked tinted with a blush. “I asked him... I asked him to kiss me on the lips.”

“And he...?”

“He did it,” John mumbled, “but... he did it because I asked him to. He wouldn’t do it otherwise, and it didn’t do anything to him, Brian! He didn’t care! You should’ve seen how he looked at me. Like a friend letting me have my quirks. Missing all the points!” He breathed heavily. “Were it about waiting, I could wait forever. Or were it about not wanting me, I’d get over it, in time, but this... This! I can’t do this, Bri, I just can’t. Please, tell me we have something to do, I’ll go mad if I keep thinking about it!”

“Oh, Deaks...,” Brian whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“I feel like I’m burning alive,” John admitted, and his voice wavered a little. “Why can’t he just refuse me? I’d rather have him laugh at me than... whatever the hell this is! He isn’t even cold to me, I could handle that, but, God, that man is a bloody brick wall! Tell me...,” he looked up to meet Brian’s eyes once again, “... how did you even cope in the past? With all the people you fell in love with?”

Brian frowned, but hesitated to come with an answer. After his talk with Roger that day next to the Childhood centre, he made a resolution. Do as you preach, be honest with others and mean what you say. Being called a hypocrite once was bad enough. Especially as the things between them finally started improving.

“I just... refused to let them in, I suppose. No one really got under my skin.” Until recently, he could add. He didn’t.

“I suppose I’m not really good at that,” John chuckled. “It’s too late. He’s way deeper than under my skin already.”

“We’ll find a way to keep ourselves busy,” Brian promised, “and finish what we started. Contact Earth... and return home.” He tried to smile at the prospect.

John nodded. “I want this over with, the sooner the better.”

 

“All settled?” Jim smiled when both astronauts re-entered his room.

John shrugged. “As much as it can be.” And he walked back to his place at the computer. “So... the port...”

Brian buried his nose back into the book and tried to focus while he filtered out the pieces of John’s and Miami’s quiet conversation. 

... we’re targeting *nix so...   
... or create a root account? Good idea, but...  
... trying to avoid using overflow, but sometimes...

“And that’s it!”

Brian looked up from his book. “You’re done?”

John gasped excitedly. “That’s it!”

Miami shook John’s hand with a wink. “Congratulations, John Deacon, you just backdoored their compiler.”

The success seemed to improve John’s mood significantly, when he turned to Brian.  
“We backdoored the compiler for their SSH server!”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Just make sure you wash your hands afterwards, Deaks.” And returned to his book. 

“Who’s cranky now,” John commented. He didn’t mind the mild reaction he got, as he knew Freddie would be excited for him. “The backdoor allows us to have access to one of the Institute’s servers without having to hack it every time we need to take a look.”

Miami nodded. “We need to do it all over again after Sheffield updated all the systems. But by backdooring his compiler directly,” he smiled, content, “he can update whatever he likes. We stay.”

“Unless he creates a new one,” John reminded.

“A new compiler?”

“So, what’s on the server?” Brian intervened, trying to prevent the conversation from running back into the land of crazy. “Anything interesting?”

Miami chuckled and leaned back in his chair, stretching his neck. “Prison block records. Got in, got out, executed, cremated... going at least ten years back. There should be your files as well somewhere, care to see?”

“Our execution records? I don’t think we’re that morbid.”

“At least you have the opportunity,” Miami shrugged, “all the other people having these records are way too dead for having a look. Like those two poor guys who came on Queen before you, five years ago.”

“Three,” Brian corrected him, and retreated to the sofa to pick up his book again.

“No, five years ago.”

“Three guys,” John clarified and shared a knowing look with Brian, “the Humpy Bong had a crew of three. I remember we would be three as well but our mission didn’t get as much funding.”

Miami shook his head. “There were two of them. I can show you the execution protocols.”

“Three,” Brian insisted. “And show us.”

“Do you think one of them could die on the way here?” John whispered when Brian joined him by the computer and leaned closer.

“I don’t think so. They sent a message right after landing, remember? Everything was fine. I think they’d mention should one of them die on the way.”

“Then...”

“Three men got on the planet,” Brian mumbled, “but only two were executed...” It was getting harder to breathe. And even harder to believe. 

“Here we are,” Jim Beach turned the screen slightly towards Brian, “two protocols. Arrested, executed, cremated. Colin Petersen and Jonathan Kelly. What would be the name of the third one you’re talking about?”

John looked at Brian in silent compassion.

“Tim,” Brian replied, his throat uncomfortably dry, “Tim Staffell. Deaks,” he turned to his friend, “do you think... could he possibly...?”

“Be alive?” John raised an eyebrow, though his tone was meant to be soothing. “Bri... It’s been five years. There is no way he could-”

“No way?” Brian retorted. “What about our way? We’re supposed to be dead as well, and yet we’re here. What if Tim’s sitting somewhere in a cellar just like this one? Who says these are the only rebels there are? He’s alive, Deaky, I tell you. I know it!” During the speech, Brian’s face lightened up with excitement. “We’ll find him!”

John sighed. “We have no idea what happened.”

Miami dutifully searched by the name. “I’m sorry, guys,” he announced, “I can find absolutely nothing about the man you’re talking about. Either he never existed, or...”

Both Brian and John leaned forward. “Or?”

“... or I’ve got an idea.”

 

It was a quiet day at the museum, as per usual. Freddie spent it mostly in the zoology room, remote and dusty place on the Earth floor. A notepad and a pencil in his hand, he kept scribbling while adjusting the legends written on small cards under each exhibit. Those were either fossils of creatures from the times before Catastrophe, or dummies created by people who never knew how the animals looked like. 

“Farrokh!”

Quickly, he hid the pencil and the notepad, right before his colleague entered the room.

“Mary,” he smiled, “what are you doing here?”

She grinned. “Maybe I’m just coming to check if you actually work or just play with the legends again. You know, we’re supposed to clean this place.” She nodded to the mop, bucket and several dusters lying in the corner, completely forgotten.

“Boring,” Freddie mumbled.

“Not everything is exciting,” she agreed. “But you should control this new hobby of yours. Boss will be furious if he finds out you’re meddling with stuff.”

“We’re designers, not cleaning ladies,” Freddie protested.

“We’re designers and cleaning ladies,” Mary corrected him. “Why are you so insistent on changing everything anyway?”

“Because it’s just wrong, Mary! Everything we thought we knew about Earth!”

“And you know that how?”

Awkward few seconds of silence ensued, before Freddie announced proudly: “I have my vision, darling.”

Mary shrugged. “I’m not against it, you know, but some people might. For example those, who could easily fire us if we’re not done with cleaning this place by the end of our shift.”

Freddie sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll get to it now.” And to emphasise his words, he walked over to the bucket and took one of the rags.

“I should get back,” Mary smiled from the door, “bye, Farrokh!”

“Bye, Mary!”

For several minutes was Freddie dutifully polishing a display case before his mind wandered. He stood there with a silly smile on his face before quickly taking his notepad out and scribbling: My fairy king can see things, he rules the air and turns the tides, that are not there for you and me, he guides the winds, my fairy king can do right and nothing wrong-  
Door opened once again with a creek. Notes were quickly dropped among the stuffed animals. In a second Freddie looked like an embodiment of busy bee.

“I’m working, you see?” he said without even stopping to turn around.

“I can see that.”

The dusted fell out of Freddie’s hand and joined the notepad.

“Deaky, darling!” he exclaimed. “What... what are you doing? You can’t be here!”

John smiled and closed the door behind him. “And I thought museums are accessible to the public.”

Freddie shuffled his feet. “Well, yes,” he admitted, “but the last guy visited this floor four months ago, and he only came to check the plumbing system. Someone sees you.”

“I made sure no one did,” John came closer to look inside the vitrine Freddie had been polishing. “That’s an interesting thing to display.” And before Freddie could stop him, he reached for the notepad.

Sudden wave of self-consciousness filled Freddie as John’s eyes focused on the scribbles.

“It’s... it’s not finished,” he mumbled.

“I’m looking forward to hear it soon,” John smiled and returned the notepad, “my fairy king.”

Freddie smiled hazily while John looked around. “This is nice,” he commented, and decided to leave out any criticism of the stuffed monsters.

“We do what we can,” Freddie nodded. “so... why are you here, darling?”

“Why do you think I had a reason? Maybe I just wanted to see you.” Which I really did, he had to admit.

“Darling, please, what is it?” Freddie took his hand, and even this simple act made John shiver. “Something urgent enough it couldn’t wait till the afternoon, and not urgent enough for you to go straight to the point? You can’t blame me for being curious.”

“Actually, it’s something from the museum. Long story, I’ll try to make it short.” John looked around carefully. “Can anybody hear us?”

Freddie shook his head. “Mary is polishing the geology section and no one else comes to this floor. We’re alone. And I’m listening.”

“There is a certain information Miami couldn’t find anywhere among the RISUGI’s files,” John started quietly, “but he said Sheffield had a habit of putting the most classified data on external hard drives, off-line, and store them in various places outside of the Institute’s main building. Some of them should be in here. In the museum.”

“If that’s true...,” Freddie thought aloud and his brows furrowed, “then they must be in the underground storerooms. There we keep all the things that aren’t on display.”

“We need to get them, Freddie. Do you think they’ll be somehow specifically secured?”

“Well, it’s not one hundred percent, but I don’t think so. Nobody even knew about their existence until now. And you know what they say about secrets,” Freddie grinned.

John returned the smile. “What do they say?”

“If you want something to stay secret, treat it like a piece of trash and no one will ever bother with passing it on. We need to be quick, though. Come.”

 

To be completely honest, John had just about enough cellars for his whole life, still not over the mine experience. Luckily, this storage room seemed to be quite spacious. Fairy well lit, filled to the brim with plain metal shelves, closets, and containers. To say it was stuffed would be an understatement.

“That reminds me...,” Freddie looked over the room, “... we still have those boxes at home.” 

“How are we ever going to find anything in here?” John spread his arms in mild despair overseeing the sheer amount of stuff. Sheffield wasn’t stupid at all – who would ever look for something important here? The storage seemed to be one of those places where the only way of cleaning up was to set everything on fire.

Freddie winked. “You underestimate my excellent deductive skills and sense for orientation, darling. And the sheer number of hours I’ve spent in here, looking for stuff.”

“You know where they are?” John looked at him hopefully.

“I have the general idea,” Freddie replied nonchalantly, took John’s hand and led him along the outermost shelf. “So... around this area... umh... somewhere here...”

John sighed in resignation.

They spent the next hour or so going through the shelves and boxes, finding all the kinds of interesting things (some of them quite creepy in John’s opinion). For a moment they even had to interrupt their search when a whole stock of samples for the fossil section nearly killed John, falling on his head. He never thought his life would be endangered by already long dead animals.   
Talking of dead animals, Freddie also found some long forgotten boxes of stuffed, plastic fauna, more of what John noticed upstairs.

“Look, Deaky, darling, isn’t this just the most adorable thing?”

John tilted his head. “That’s... a cat, isn’t it?” Strangely mis-shaped cat though. He wouldn’t bet money on getting the species right, but let’s roll with it.

“I don’t think we have any of those upstairs... what do they do?”

“Live in your house, eat, sleep, you pet them, you play with them...”

Freddie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that sounds so cute! I wish we had one here. A real one.”

“If we ever get back to Earth again, I’m getting you one,” John promised and had to smile how excited Freddie looked. “Now, back to the hard drives. Do you think they could be in those small boxes up there?”

Freddie evaluated the situation. “They might be. We need a ladder, wait a second.”

Oh no, John thought, no ladder, not again! Though he had to admit that the small collapsible stepladder Freddie brought from the corner looked way more stable than the terrible thing he had been climbing in the Rockfield mines.  
John managed to get up this one quite gracefully, carefully balancing on the top rung to reach as high as necessary.

“Do you want me to hold you, darling?”

“Yes, why not, actual-“ John gasped and couldn’t finish the sentence, as Freddie optioned to grab his thighs of all places. Oh, God.

The grip was tight and didn’t help John with keeping himself steady at all. Freddie’s thumbs so near his most sensitive areas almost burned and the tense warmth spread further. Certain part of John’s anatomy started to be very interested in taking the matters (and Freddie’s hands) a little bit further. 

Think of weird stuffed animals... think of weird stuffed animals...

Freddie took John’s shiver as a cue to make his grip even tighter. John let out a desperate whine and almost felt the blood rushing from his head downstairs. He tried to move his legs to make the situation at least a bit less noticeable, but Freddie held firmly, and every movement only increased the friction.

“Freddie...,” John exhaled quietly, “Freddie...”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Freddie assured him. “I’m holding you.”

Yes, I know! Damn well I know!   
John felt there couldn’t possibly be enough cold showers in the universe to help. His confused brain supplied him with an info that liquid helium has −270 °C and less. Yeah, some of that would be perfect just now.

Shakily, he exhaled.

“Are you alright, darling, you seem a little unsettled,” Freddie frowned, “if it’s about the ladder...?”

“No!” John’s voice sounded like two octaves higher than usual. “I’m good... really, I... I... I’m good, I’m the best!”

“I’m sure you are, dear,” Freddie chuckled. “Can you see anything resembling hard drive?”

John forced himself to focus and groped around the shelf. Several little boxes he examined with disappointment, but the last one...  
“I think... this might be them!” he announced excitedly. “I’ve got them!”

“Excellent, darling!”

John both praised and cursed God for Freddie finally letting go of him, and stepped down. 

 

Both were getting ready to leave, when suddenly, the door creaked.

“Is anybody here?” female voice resonated the space.

“That’s Mary!” Freddie whispered. “She can’t see you here!”

And before John could let out a word of protest, Freddie simply grabbed him and shoved him into the nearest closet.

In the next second, Mary emerged from behind a shelf.

“Farrokh!” she exhaled in relief. “Just you. I was afraid someone broke in here.”

Freddie chuckled. “Oh, please, what would anyone do in here.”

Mary frowned. “What are you doing in here then?”

“Well that’s a good question, dear,” Freddie nodded. “So, let me ask it - what are you doing in here then?”

“Eh...,” Mary blinked in a momentary confusion. “I came for the new cleaning supplies. I ran out of Sanel. There should be some bottles in the closet.”

Freddie’s breath hitched. “In the closet?” 

“In the closet.”

“In this specific closet?”

“In this specific closet, so would you, please, move so I can open it?”

“Oh, you want to open the closet?”

Mary frowned. “That’s the general procedure when you want to take things out of it, Farrokh Bulsara, what is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, Mary, don’t-”

But she already sneaked around him and opened the door.

“Hm... Farrokh?” she peeped.

Freddie shuffled his feet innocently. “Yes?”

“There’s a man in this closet.”

“Yes, there is,” Freddie nodded.

John smiled awkwardly, pressed between mops and working coats. “Eh... hello. I’m John.”

Mary wasn’t completely sure what to do. “Hello, John.”

“So...,” he turned around, “you said some Sanel? Is that this purple bottle? And, perhaps a new duster? I like dusting, what about you?”

She took the bottle soundlessly, but then her mind jumped on its rails again.  
“Who are you?” she asked sharply.

“He’s from... external resources,” Freddie intervened, “and he came to... do all that fixing... stuff.”

Mary visibly relaxed. “You mean the lights on the corridor five?”

“Exactly!”

“Then what is he doing in the closet?”

“I was looking for the junction box,” John intervened when he noticed Freddie’s lack of inspiration, “I was told it should be around here.”

“In the closet?”

“Good point,” John turned to Freddie, “why did you tell me to search in the closet?”

Mary sighed. “The box is on the corridor three, first floor. I can show you.”

John grinned very insincerely. “Yeah... that would be great.”

 

It was evening already when finally, all five rebels got together in Miami’s cellar. Roger came in last, welcomed by worried Brian.

“Rog! How was work? And your leg?”

Roger huffed. “My leg is fine, Bri. Pulling out three rotten teeth from a mouth of an idiot who thinks I believe him when he says he flosses – less so.” He looked over Brian’s shoulder to see Freddie and John sitting next to each other on a sofa silently. “What happened to them?” he whispered.

“Not sure,” Brian answered in the same manner. “From what I understood, there was a series of events leading to Deaks working four hours under supervision of Freddie’s colleague on museum’s electrics.”

“From what you told me I thought he’d love it.”

“He did. It’s Freddie who’s annoyed.”

In the moment, Miami leaned back from his chair. “So, gentlemen. I got in.”  
The whole foursome perked up. 

Miami sighed. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there’s nothing about anyone called Tim Staffell. Also, nothing about Earth.”

“So, what’s on them, then?” Roger asked. 

“I can show you only the names of the files. I’ll be decrypting them to get to the actual content in following days. Or weeks, it might take a while. Someone really knew what they were doing when programming these barriers. Have a look – anything you think I should take as a matter of priority?”

All four heads leaned in to read names of the stolen files.

“Look,” John pointed to the screen, “this one’s about dehydroapermycitine, that pick-me-up of yours.”

Roger leaned even closer. “You’re right. Probably some description of its production, chemical formula, that stuff. Whatever.”

“I’d like to see it,” Brian decided. “Would it be possible, Jim?”

“As I said, in time, sure.”

“Why do you want to prioritize that?” Freddie protested. “There might be so many other things-”

“He’s right,” John suddenly intervened. “From what we already know – the drug’s created by Institute, distributed freely, with no real information about it available. And now we find a file on Institute’s top secret off-line hard drives. Personally, I’d love to see what they say. Because... if it turns out it’s hurting you, Freddie, I would never forgive myself. We need to find out everything we can about it.”

“Oh, John,” Freddie exhaled with a chuckle, “darling, we’re taking it for years. And from what I know, we’re still alive.”

“Nevertheless,” John insisted.

“Then I can simply stop taking it, and we’ll see what happens.”

John gave Freddie what could only be described as heart eyes. “You would... do that?”

“Anything to keep your mind at peace, darling.”

Roger suddenly snorted. “Good luck with that, Fred. You won’t last a week.”

Freddie straightened himself. “Is that a challenge, Blondie?”

“It just might be.”

“Then you do it as well.”

Roger’s eyes went wide open. “What?”

“A challenge,” Freddie grinned, “who lasts longer without DHA. Unless you want to refuse straight away. In that case, I’m winning already.”

“That’s not how a challenge works!” Roger exclaimed and looked at Brian, who stayed unusually silent during the conversation. 

“Your silver jacket for me if I win. And I know I will, dear.”

Roger was triggered. “You won’t win!”

“So, is it a bet?”

“Yes!”

Both men shook hands in agreement, while Miami, Brian and John exchanged amused looks.

“So,” Miami took word again, “besides this... whatever you plan to do, guys... I’ll try to keep looking for your Tim Staffell. And decode the documents we have. Anything else?”  
No one had anything. Meeting dismissed.

 

Roger’s and Brian’s car ride home was a quiet one, as Brian couldn’t help himself but keep getting lost in thoughts and memories.  
Tim... Would it be possible? To see him again? He mourned him so long ago... he cried when they announced the mission on Queen turned out a failure. No messages, no survivors. But that’s just how things are. Space is cold, dark, and dangerous. Deadly. Everybody knows that. Every astronaut walking towards a launch pad knows this could be the mission he never returns from. They know it. Their families, friends, their loved ones know it. Brian knew it all too well. So he mourned his Tim... and then moved on. But when he had been offered to fly to Queen himself... he couldn’t refuse, no matter the cost. The adventure, the reward... and Tim. To find out what happened to him. Even thought he couldn’t help him. And now... could he after all? His first captain... his best friend... and more. Always smiling. Always assuring Brian all would be well. Always... safe arms. Brian wanted that again. To feel safe and protected by someone stronger than himself. He missed the feeling. He wanted Tim back, it was that simple. Needed him back. Craved him back... Just like the old days... So many great days... and nights...

“You’re awfully silent,” Roger interrupted his daydreaming, “you’re giving me heebie jeebies.”

Brian shrugged, returning to the present. “It’s a lot to take in. Tim was really special to me. And all this – it’s just unexpected.”

“I understand,” Roger nodded thoughtfully, “and if there’s anything to find out about him, we will. And by the way, once we enter the flat, I expect you to hide all the DHA I have, shots, pills, everything. Hide them or throw them away, I don’t care. Freddie’s not getting a single thread from that jacket.”

Brian chuckled. “As you wish.”

“To be honest,” Roger continued, “I expected you to be thrilled about this, and a first one to insist on us not taking it anymore. Why didn’t you?”

“You know my opinion, Rog, but you taking it or not... that’s your business only. And I can’t just force my views on you.” 

Roger looked at Brian in surprise and stopped the car in front of his house.

He smiled. “You know, Bri... lately... I found out I don’t mind having you around as much as I used to.”

Brian smirked in return. “Thanks. I don’t mind having you around too.”


	19. Back To The Hell

“Now that we are, finally, all present, I have some news,” Miami announced and turned to Brian and Roger, who just entered the room.

“It’s been just ten minutes more or less,” Roger protested.

“More like ten minutes times four,” Miami corrected him. “And please, sit down before you collapse.”

Roger shot him an angry stare but took a chair anyway. He looked terrible. Since he and Freddie made the bet about giving up DHA a week ago, things hadn’t been easy for them. Roger was permanently tired, frustrated, and his mood swung left and right. He was able to scream his lungs out at Brian for “walking too loud” and apologise sheepishly the minute after that, making him dinner while crying his heart out, needing Brian’s fervent reassurance that he couldn’t be happier living with anybody else but him, not even Freddie. Oh, yes, Brian was exhausted.  
Speaking of Freddie, the black-haired man was sleeping soundly on the sofa, his head propped against John’s shoulder.

“How is it going?” Brian whispered and sat on the armrest next to John.

“Sometimes I have to physically restrain myself not to stuff some of that shit right into his throat,” John mumbled gloomily, “I’m dying. Just yesterday he spent an hour watching his reflection in a spoon, asking me again and again if I think his teeth are too big. I can’t anymore, Bri!”

“At least Freddie didn’t insist on driving here,” Brian replied very quietly, looking at Roger, who was currently hunched on his chair, hugging his middle.

Miami cleared his throat. “So... as I said, now that we’re all here-”

“Yes, you have news!” Roger snapped, which woke Freddie up. “We heard!”

Miami sighed. “Alright, so... I think I’ve been able to crack the coding protocol of the secured files, which means I can now write a program able to open them. So I’m asking for patience, but we’ll get there. My news are from another area.”

“Did you manage to find something about Tim?” Brian asked, trying to hide his eagerness.

“Not exactly...,” Miami admitted, “... but I might have found a way how to find something about Tim.”

“Which is?”

“Except for the hard drives Sheffield decided to store in the museum, I found out about another one. Greater security, bigger capacity. The central back-up hard drive. I knew about it before, but just yesterday it occurred to me it could contain just the information we need.” Miami made a pause before adding: “It’s the one I stole information about circuits from, all those years ago, but I didn’t have time to download everything. So you see, if the Institute knows something about your friend, this is the only option left.”

Brian slowly nodded. “It’s surely worth a try. Where is it?”

“Directly in the Institute.”

“Are you kidding me?” Freddie gasped. “The last time we went there, we had to use a helicopter to get out! Do you really think we just simply walk back in?”

“I’m simply walking in every day,” Roger reminded, “I still work there. And unless we wander around basements covered in sand... it might be possible. It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Exactly,” Brian nodded. “What do you think, Deaks?”

John took some time for thinking. “It’s not like it can’t be done... We need a good plan,” he decided, “because even though it might not be a problem to get into the building, not even Rog has a reason to wander around the IT department.”

“There’s actually one more thing in our favour,” Miami added. “IT section doesn’t have security as heavy as the others, because everything of a value can be stolen virtually. With an exception of the central hard-drive – and that’s something no one’s supposed to know about.”

“Let’s go then,” Roger agreed and supressed a yawn, which caught John’s attention.

He hesitated. “Ehm... no offense, Rog, but... are you sure you and Freddie are in shape to go anywhere at all?”

Roger pressed his lips together.

“Rude, darling,” Freddie commented. “We’re in for any secret Institute trip, shape and everything. And we’d be even more if Roger stopped being stubborn and handed over the bloody jacket.”

“In your dreams, Fred.”

“Maybe we should at least wait a bit?” John suggested. “Another week? Just until things get back to normal.”

“The longer we’re waiting, the lesser is the chance we find Tim alive,” Brian let out a protest. “We need to go as soon as possible!”

“It’s been five years, Brian! If he survived that long without our help, he can last another few days!”

Suddenly, Roger jumped up from his chair and quickly walked to the opposite corner of the room. Brian followed him.

“What is it, Rog?” he asked gently, not unfamiliar with this state.

Roger looked at him and his eyes glistened with wetness. “Don’t... don’t argue.”

“We won’t,” Brian promised, caressed Roger’s shoulder, and to his surprise, the little blond leaned into his hand like a touch-starved kitten.

“So... next week we’ll assess the situation and make a proper plan,” John summed up. “Agreed?”

Freddie was once again asleep and Roger only sniffled, but Brian and Miami nodded.

“Agreed, Deaks.”

***

 

Norman Sheffield was the kind of man who liked to have control over everything humanly possible – even better, direct control. That’s why he spent hours every day walking around the IT department (my department, he loved to say importantly), looking his programmers over their shoulders and commenting on their work.

“I hope you’re already finished with the programs for hospitals,” he said resolutely, entering yet another office where his employees worked.

“Only few finishing touches, sir.”

“How long will those take?”

“Around...,” the programmer glanced on the complicated script on his screen, “... two hours, sir.”

“You’ll have it ready in one,” Sheffield ordered, “otherwise I call Foster to use his methods of dealing with people, am I understood?”

“Of course, sir,” the programmer answered docilely, but gave his colleague an amused glance the moment Sheffield turned his back on them. They both knew in half an hour at most everything’s done and dusted.

 

They’re getting slower and slower, Sheffield thought, disgusted.

“Working attitude in the part of Institute is more than dissatisfactory!” he shouted vaguely in the corridor, so everyone could hear. “If Reid gets to hear about this, he won’t be pleased, I can guarantee that!”

In his anger he turned around a corner blindly and crashed into another two men in his department’s blue uniforms.

“And why are you two just standing here like a pair of morons!” he exclaimed without even looking at the two.

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“Am I not keeping you busy enough? Get back to work!”

“Right away, sir.”

Sheffield only huffed, shoved the men aside and stormed away.

After a moment of silence, Roger breathed out quietly: “That... that was close. Bloody hell. I thought my heart was gonna jump out of my throat.”

John, still visibly shaken, nodded. “So... that was Sheffield?”

“Yeah... that was Sheffield.” Roger ran his hands over the stolen IT uniform. “At least we know the disguise works. Come now. Freddie and Brian are waiting on the second floor, and we shouldn’t stay here.”

“Standing like a pair of morons,” John added.

Roger grinned.

 

They continued down the corridor, trying to look universally bored and busy, as if they truly belonged there.

“So...,” John said while they waited for a group of employees to stroll past the staircase door, “... how are you doing lately? Better?”

Roger only shrugged. “I guess. I mean, I don’t have an urge to strangle everybody anymore, at least not more than usual. But... it’s still hard to sleep,” he admitted. And indeed, there were dark shadows under his eyes.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Freddie’s quite the same, if that’s any consolation.”

“It’s just...,” Roger spread his hands anxiously, ignoring John’s comment, “... weird, you know! It’s all getting... different, I spoke to Brian and he tries to understand or listen, but whatever he says is wrong, because... I honestly don’t know what I want to hear, what he’s supposed to say! I feel myself getting different, and I hate it! I can’t sleep at night, just tossing and turning in my bed, I’m hot under the blanket and I’m cold without it, I sweat through my pyjamas, I’m staring at the ceiling for hours, awake, and then during the day I fall asleep standing! I hate it, I hate every single minute of this, of me, of everything!”

John waited patiently for the outburst to end. “If it bothers you so much-”

“Then what?”

“- then just call off the bet.”

“No chance,” Roger frowned resolutely, “I can handle this. And come now, we’re here on business.”

 

“Here you are!” Freddie whispered when the foursome finally united on a lonely corridor of the second floor. “Do you have the entrance cards?”

Roger nodded. “We do. Do you have the key?”

Brian showed him the object. “Without a hitch. Plus, I talked to Miami. Blind zone’s on, cameras shut. We can have a go.”

They all looked to a massive, intimidating metal door at the end of the corridor.

“Well, after you, darling,” John nodded to Brian, “we’re ready to follow the keyholder.”

Freddie giggled, and Brian only rolled his eyes, but then he walked quickly to the door and unlocked them. Everybody held their breaths when they opened with a creak, showing a way into another corridor. The new one seemed clearly unused – dingy and dusty.

“Why do always places like this have to look scary?” Brian mumbled. “Few sweeps with a mop are all I ask.”

Roger looked around. “What door did Miami say it was?”

“Thirty-nine.”

They ran quietly along the long line of door, before finally, they found what they’re looking for.  
Freddie opened them with one of the cards he and Brian had stolen before.  
The central hard-drive was one of a simple kind, the one using magnetic storage system for the data, connected to a computer. The room itself was tiny, big enough for two people including the one sitting at a table.

“I’ll try the log in Miami gave us and we’ll pick out what we need,” John decided, “coming with me, Freddie?”

Freddie agreed and quickly slipped into the tiny room after John. Brian and Roger stayed outside and closed the door.

 

“Well, this is fun,” Roger noted after few minutes of silent standing and listening through the door to John’s and Freddie’s quiet conversation.

Brian chuckled. “Feel free to have a nap, if you want. In the morning you said you had had a terrible night.”

“I doubt your sleep was anywhere near satisfactory either,” Roger replied, “from what I can guess.”

“Yeah, actually, I woke up quite... hang on,” Brian narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “how do you know I didn’t sleep well? I didn’t say anything.”

“Eh...,” Roger shuffled his feet, “... you... you look like it.”

“I look like it?”

“Yes, you look terrible.”

Brian chuckled. “Well, thank you.”

“No! I mean...” Was it just a trick of light or did Roger really blush? “You look... not terrible, lately, actually, I mean... not that you’d look not terrible just lately, you look not terrible in general, in the general... human... lookish... way. Your hair’s curly.”

“..... thank you?” Brian guessed that would be the right answer to the mess he just heard. “You look nice as well.”

“Oh, thanks... actually, I’m thinking... perhaps I should cut my hair,” Roger suggested, deep in thought, “just to change something. What do you think?”

“And I thought we established I’m not the right person to discuss fashion choices with,” Brian objected, but despite the words, he was pleased. “Do whatever you want, Rog.”

Suddenly, a loud shout sounded from the metal door.  
“Hey! You!”  
Rapidly, Roger and Brian turned around. Tall, sturdy security guy was standing in the doorway. Brian quickly glanced at the other end of the corridor, knowing very well there were no door out. They were trapped.

“What do you think you’re doing here!” the man continued and went closer, brows furrowing in suspicion.

His face felt strangely familiar to Brian, but he couldn’t remember...

Roger decided to go all in and gestured over their stolen uniforms. “What do you think? We work here.”

“Nobody has an access into this corridor unless we’re informed,” the security man wasn’t wavering, “show me your ID.”

“Do you really think we carry that around all day every day?” Brian asked incredulously.

“I suppose you really should,” the security man answered sweetly, now standing right in front of them. Behind his belt there was a baton and a gun.

Roger shrugged. “Well... a mistake happened. We can just go get them, if you’d like.”

“What about I take you to the security department floor and then we go get them,” the man counter-offered.

Oh shit, Brian thought and internally started to panic, what are we going to do?

“That’s really unnecessary,” Roger said coldly. “I assure you, we’re just doing our jobs here.”

“And I’m only doing mine, sir, so you forgive me if I do it properly.”

“What if,” Brian suggested, “he goes get our IDs while I wait with you here?”

Roger glared at him. “I have no idea where you keep yours. I’m staying.”

Brian returned his stare. “I’ve specifically told you where I keep it, remember?”

“Sudden amnesia, Brian,” Roger retorted. “Maybe you should go get them, I’ll wait.”

“Wait a second,” the security man said suddenly and made a small step back, reaching for his gun, “I know you! I knew I remembered that face from somewhere!”  
Suddenly, Brian remembered as well. This man, this very man who stumbled upon them, was one of the two guards watching over his and John’s cell the day they arrived on Queen. Fuck. Fuck, and thousand times fuck...  
“You’re one of the guys from space!” the guard continued feverishly. “You’re the Brian May!”

“Of course not-” Roger tried, but the guard interrupted him by raising the gun and pointing on Brian’s chest.

“Don’t move, don’t move or I shoot you on the spot!”

“There’s no need for this,” Brian argued, while his heart raced. What will happen to him? What will happen to Roger? Freddie? John? What to do?

“Where is the other one?” the guard asked sharply, and his eyes flicked to the door of the tiny room with Freddie and John. “Is he in there?”

Brian felt Roger squirm next to him. Bad and even worse possible scenarios were running through his head like racing rats, and he was frantically trying to catch at least one that wouldn’t end up in disaster. He came with nothing.

“Hands up and on the wall, both of you!”

“Just calm down,” Roger said slowly, looking the guard to the eyes, “calm down, we’re putting our hands up now...”

And in the next second, he jumped forward, knocking the guard off on the floor.

“Rog!” Brian exclaimed.

The gun was flung in the air and fell uselessly while both men now rolled on the ground, punching, kicking, grunting and biting.  
“HEL-“ the guard screamed, but Roger’s fist was faster and gave him a merciless right hook. The man’s mouth got bloodied and he spit the hot liquid right into his attacker’s face. Roger froze for a millisecond, blinded – and suddenly, it was him on the ground, the guard going for him mercilessly. He tried to shake him off, get him away, but the guard had no intention of losing his ground this time. Both hands grabbed for Roger’s throat and pressed it brutally.  
Before he even knew what really happened, Roger got dizzy. He could only feel a sharp pain on his throat and another one, dull and dark, that was taking over his brain. He was still fighting, punching and kicking, but without any visible effect. His panic rose, but then it began to leave him, along with the light, as he slowly descended...

Bang! The sharp sound forced him to open his eyes rapidly, more by instinct than free will. The hands were away from his throat, he registered that, and his opponent was just lying soundly on the ground, making no moves to attack again.

Roger breathed in carefully and hissed at the pain. His brain was only very slowly getting back on track. So far he could just dumbly stare at the hole in the guard’s head and thin stream of blood dripping out of it.

Brian was standing above them, the dead man’s gun in his hand. His stare was cold, sharp and calm, and hand steady, but Roger noticed how he bit his lip, losing a battle with a quick tic of his right eye.

“Brian...,” Roger whispered. Even that hurt.

With a crash, the small door opened, and John with Freddie jumped out, bewildered.

“What the actual... BRIAN!” Freddie gasped.

John assessed the situation. “We need to go, quickly,” he said, looking at Brian, “surely some other people heard the shot as well. They’ll sound the alarm. We haven’t downloaded anything yet, but that’s not the point now. We need to go.”

Brian quickly nodded and with Freddie’s help they got Roger on his feet.  
“Can you walk, Rog?”

“Yeah... I think so...”

ATTENTION, ATTENTION, SECURITY FORCES IMMEDIATELY ON THE SECOND FLOOR, IT DEPARTMENT, A GUNSHOT REGISTERED! ATTENTION, ATTENTION-

Siren screamed above their heads.

“We need to get to the stairs!” Brian shouted over the nerve-wracking noise. “John! What the actual fuck-”

John was squatted next to the corpse, groping it and shuffling under its clothes. Then he jumped up again. “Universal key, you genius. We can use the service elevator, quick!”  
They needed no other encouragement and sprinted towards the door out.

ATTENTION, ATTENTION, SECURITY FORCES IMMEDIATELY ON THE SECOND FLOOR! A GUNSHOT REGISTERED!

“Shut up!” Freddie screamed at the siren hysterically, as they turned around the corner, John used the stolen key to open the elevator door and they all jumped in.

“Where to? We can’t just wander around the corridors,” Freddie gasped, “Rog’s all bloodied, Brian’s got a piece of brain on his shirt! We’ve got a gun!”

“Go to the lowest level, Deaks,” Brian ordered, and John pushed the button immediately. The elevator moved.  
They were safe. For now.

“You want to get to the lower basement?” John inquired.

Brian nodded.

“Why?” Roger moaned. “How that can help us? You want to hide in there? Change uniforms?”

“No, nothing like that. But there’s a way out.”

John frowned as well. “What way?”

“Nothing rings a bell? Come on, there’s the entrance to Rockfield mines!”

“Are you INSANE?” Roger rasped. “Are you really expecting us to get BACK IN THERE?”

“Just think about it,” Brian urged them. “RISUGI has an entrance to those mines! Not to mention there was a path by the door going somewhere! I doubt they’d have it just for no reason. There is something in the mines, most likely some secret pathway! We’ll get out!”

“That can go anywhere,” John objected. “What if it gets us into even greater mess than-”

ATTENTION, ATTENTION, SECURITY FORCES IMMEDIATELY ON THE SECOND FLOOR, IT DEPARTMENT, A GUNSHOT REGISTERED! ATTENTION, ATTENTION!

“- actually, you convinced me. Everybody on board?”

Freddie and Roger looked at each other and nodded just the moment the elevator got to the lowest possible floor and its door opened.

“Is anybody there?” Brian whispered.

Freddie poked his head out and had a look. “Nothing. The air is clear. Let’s go!”

So, the foursome hurried out of the elevator and down yet another corridor.  
Running for their lives.


	20. Doin’ Alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: the chapter is a bit depressive, so, please, be cautious

“Admit it,” John mumbled gloomily, “we’re lost.”

“Oh, come on, darling, it has to be somewhere... somewhere close...,” Freddie insisted and dragged them further down the empty corridor. “This might be a different section but if we just keep going, surely sooner or later, we find the door. We have to!”

Brian and Roger only glanced at each other. 

Truth to be told, the corridor didn’t in the slightest look like the one they found the last time. It wasn’t white, but eerily green, and there was no door in the walls whatsoever. They also couldn’t see to the end, as the way zig-zagged every now and then, looking like a masterpiece of someone very high on something illegal.

“Are you alright?” Brian asked quietly and glanced on Roger’s neck, where nasty bruises shaped like the guard’s hands slowly started to appear. He shivered as he once again realized how thin Roger’s neck was and how big the hands and how little- he gasped in horror and his knees started to shake so hard he had to stop, breathing heavily.

“Brian!” 

“I... it’s... go ahead,” Brian blurted out, “I’ll catch up with you, I just... I’m fine.” His face lost its colour and he leaned against the wall, clutching his stomach.  
Roger was ready to catch him, but before he could do anything, John pushed him aside.

“Brian,” he said firmly, “look at me. Breathe slowly. You’re here, Roger’s here, we all are. We’re good.”

“I’m fine,” Brian swallowed and shook his head, “I’m sorry, I just... lost my composure.”

“I know. Shall we?”

“Yeah...”

They all waited for about a minute before Brian straightened up. “Let’s go. We need to get to the mines. They can find out about us any moment. Foster is probably turning the building upside down as we speak.”

As they had nowhere else to go, they continued down the corridor. 

“I just realized...,” Roger rasped suddenly, his throat still achy, “... we came here by the service elevator, didn’t we?”

Everybody nodded.

“But there were no other elevators, even though in the upper levels the other shafts are right next to it,” Roger continued, “including the lower basement.”

Freddie frowned. “What do you mean by that, darling?”

“Logically, we have to be lower than that,” Roger replied and looked around as if he hoped to see something to support his idea, “under the lower basement, where the normal elevators end. We needed the universal key to get here, remember?”

“So... we’re under the lower basement,” Brian sighed, “alright. What is supposed to be here?”

Roger shook his head. “I have no idea, I’ve never heard about this floor before.”

“It wasn’t even on Miami’s map of RISUGI,” John added. “So... what do we do?”

For a moment everyone just stared at one another before Brian spoke.  
“Well, we’re going a good direction. I suggest we don’t go back, just continue down this corridor. On the other end there should be another elevator or a staircase, shouldn’t it, Rog?”

Roger shrugged. “Every normal floor has it so.”

“Is it just me,” Freddie said suddenly, “or something really smells here?”

John sniffed. “It reminds me of... hospital. Somehow.”

“I know what it is,” Roger supplied, frowning, “but... what the actual hell...”

“What?” Brian urged. “Too bad?”

“It’s denatonium. A solution used by reproductive centres to imitate effects of amniotic fluid on human tissues.”

“Excuse me?” John raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You get in, and your skin will get neither dry nor wrinkly,” Roger specified, using a tone as if talking with a five-year-old. “Way more physiological than saline or Plasma-Lyte. They use it when growing babies.”

“Isn’t that normal in RISUGI?” Brian asked. “That’s what’s done here.”

“Not on a secret underground floor,” Roger frowned, “believe me.” 

Suddenly a soft clap echoed through the corridor. Everybody listened.

“Someone’s calling the service elevator,” Freddie whispered in panic.

“That doesn’t mean they’re coming here,” John took his hand, “but we better hurry. Brian?”

Brian nodded. “Let’s go. Quickly.”

 

They sped up, walking faster than before, but soon nerves started to take toll on the foursome, spurring them mercilessly. Faster walk, jog and they ended up running for their lives, as every rustle meant the Institute’s people finding them. Were they followed? Perhaps. Or not? Who could say?

“Faster!” Roger gasped. “There must be a door somewhere! Somewhere close!”

He was right. Finally, the corridor ended with a huge white door labelled “MeSI”. Swiftly, John took out his universal key once again, and they flew through the door, shutting them behind.

The smell was much stronger here, and they saw nothing but darkness. 

“Nobody moves until we turn the lights on,” Brian ordered. There was some confused shuffling around. Brian felt somebody’s hand (probably Roger’s) on his shoulder as he drove his hands over the wall trying to find a light switch.  
Finally, he found it. Technical fluorescent lamps lit up the whole space unpleasantly, and for the first time the men could look at what was around them.

Freddie screamed.

The space was large, more than expected, but the low ceiling would make anyone feel claustrophobic. The whole room was filled with tanks, around two meters high barrels with the smelly denatonium. Brian guessed at least eighty or a hundred of them.   
And in each and every one, there was a human.

“Holy shit,” John whispered. “Holy shit...”

Freddie blinked furiously as if it would make the scene disappear. Roger just stared with a blank expression on his face.

Brian made few steps closer to the closest one. “How...,” his voice sounded breathless and raspy, “how did they die? Roger?”

It took some time before Roger answered, slowly shaking his head. “They’re not dead, Brian.”

“What? They’re pickled for God’s sake!”

“Just look at them,” the blond dentist came closer, “can’t you see the probes? These people are kept asleep, all the nutrients and oxygen are supplied into their bloodstream directly.” 

His professional interest seemed to overcome the horror for a while, as he slowly walked further down one of the isles. None of the others really wished to stay behind, so they followed him, watching the human beings around with fear and morbid fascination.

“I think...,” Roger said slowly, “... I think I understand.”

Brian swallowed. “Oh yeah?” He looked like he was going to be sick.

“These... people around, if you take a closer look-”

“No, thank you,” John refused immediately.

Roger glared at him. “If you take a closer look,” he continued as if not interrupted at all, “you can see they’re... not normal.”

“Not normal?”

“Not healthy,” Roger specified. “Sick. Deformed. Wrong. Degenerated. You name it. Even with our care and genetic testing, yeah, sometimes it happens.”

Brian plucked up the courage and looked around. Indeed, Roger was right. He had to search for it, in some cases, like excessive fingers, or perhaps those unnaturally wide, flat or otherwise misshaped faces betraying mental deficiency. In others, he didn’t have to even search – all the inseparable Siamese twins, people with excessive limbs, awry bodies and heads looking almost inhuman. Terrible clefts, cyclopia and proboscis, omphaloceles, spina bifida, the list went on and on.

John let out a quiet squeaky sound.

“They put them here,” Brian said slowly, as the horror around slowly creeped upon him squeezing his insides, “because they were born wrong? You look at them, Rog! Most of them wouldn’t even survive being born!”

“They never were, Bri!” Roger gesticulated around. “These are prenatal tanks – only bigger. The... people were never taken out. There are some infants and children in the neighbouring isle, if you want to see for yourselves.”

“I think we’ll pass,” Freddie mumbled in disgust.

John frowned. “Then why to keep them alive – like this! – in the first place?”

Roger pressed his lips together. “I can only guess,” he replied vaguely.

“Then guess.”

“Can you see the scars on some of the bodies?” Roger sighed in resignation. “I think... that’s the reason RISUGI keeps growing them. Even a degenerate can have some of his organs healthy suitable for further use.”

“You mean transplantations?” Brian asked.

“Exactly. There are lots of things on a human body. Not only organs, but hormones for extracting as supplements, bone marrow, stem cells, even blood for transfusions.”

That was the point when Brian lost it. “How?” he exclaimed. “How the hell can you be so... so bloody pragmatic about this! There are people in tanks around us! Bone marrow? Stem cells? Your planet is sick! Just a bunch of perverted-”

“Stop screaming at me!” Roger shrieked and his eyes glistened with tears. “I didn’t... know... I don’t know, I don’t know, I...”

His distress worked like a cold shower on Brian and he immediately offered his arms to him, which was quickly accepted. Roger nestled against Brian and sobbed into his shoulder. Brian made some vague, cooing noises, but didn’t dare to talk, as he felt his bitter anger just barely managed.

“Are you alright?” John turned to Freddie, who only nodded.

“Are you?”

“Yeah...”

John was alright. He really really was. At least that was what he tried to persuade himself. Fake it till you make it, or something like that.  
He just needed at least a minute for himself, so he whispered some vague apology to Freddie and wandered off few isles away, gaze fixed on the ground, trying to ignore the motionless bodies around.

“I’m so sorry, Rog,” Brian whispered and hugged the blond a bit tighter, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m just...,” Roger sighed and let go of Brian, “... I just don’t understand how it’s possible we didn’t know! Miami got an access to whole RISUGI’s network!”

“Maybe the Institute has more secrets than we’re aware of,” Freddie frowned. “We need to talk to Miami. If we missed this-”

“Brian!” John’s voice quietly echoed through the space. “Brian, come quickly!” He sounded distressed. “Quick!”

“John! Where are you?”

“Isle seven!”

Brian ran as quickly as he could, only to find John staring motionlessly on one of the tanks.

“What is it, Deaks?”

“Just look,” John pointed at the tank. “Look.”

He did look. The body inside didn’t seem impaired in any way, just a healthy man over thirty. Several probes were stuck into his body and dark hair flew around his face like an aethereal halo. His eyes were wide open, but stared absently and motionlessly, pupils narrowed by the heavy sedation. 

Brian gaped at the man silently, before a soft whine escaped him.

“Tim...,” he whimpered, “that... not, not possible... Tim...”

John put a hand lightly on his friend’s shoulder but said nothing. After all, what could be said.  
Freddie and Roger slowly joined the duo, exchanging worried glances. Roger would almost prefer Brian shouting at him again. This was worse, much worse, to watch him stand silently, staring at a mutilated body of his former close friend, effectively breaking inside.

“We need to save him,” Brian spoke, his voice hoarse but without any resolution, as if he already guessed what the answer would be.

“We can’t,” Roger said quietly, looking at the data from life-support machines next to the tank.

Brian turned to him, with an almost palpable desperation. “I know, I know it will be difficult and dangerous and tricky, but Tim-”

“Bri... I didn’t mean it that way,” Roger explained, “I meant it literally. We can’t save him. It’s been too long, he cannot survive without the life support. He won’t survive much longer with it either, as his body isn’t adapted to this.”

Brian swallowed, masking a quiet sob. “We... we’ll find a way...”

“And even if he were able to survive,” Roger continued mercilessly, “... according to the machines they already took his kidneys and one of the lungs. That one – that’s a dialysis, you see? I guess he’s kept here for his heart and liver. Even if we did take him out of there, we’d only prepare him much slower and painful death. I’m so sorry, Brian.” He looked genuinely upset. “So... so sorry.” 

“Well...,” Brian exhaled, “then... there’s nothing we can do. As they always say, space is cruel, and... and we all knew what we risked and... and... oh, God...” He hid his face in his hands and turned away.

“There’s no need to play brave, Brian, just-”

“Just shut up, Roger! Give me a minute for God’s sake!” 

Everyone waited obediently until Brian turned back to them. He didn’t cry, but his eyes looked nearly deader than Tim’s. Roger’s mouth got dry with pity and sorrow.

“We can’t save him,” Brian said firmly, “then... we need to turn it off. He won't be their lab rat any longer.”

John shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “You... you want to kill him yourself?”

“He’s already as good as dead. I just won’t let him be cut to pieces by those monsters upstairs.”

John went closer to the machines to have a proper look. 

“In that case, I suppose,” he said, deep in thought, “if we just slightly pull out the supply cable... that would stop all the life support immediately and still could look like an accident.”

“How long will it take until he...?” Brian swallowed and looked at Roger.

“Hard to say... won’t be long though. Few minutes. He’ll sleep through it.”

Brian nodded. “Well then. I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do it?”

“Well, I sure as hell don’t want anyone of you to do it, Deaks!” Brian snapped. “Where is the cable?”

“Over here. Just pull gently.” 

Brian looked at the cable. Then at Tim. Then back. Blood was pounding in his ears. He felt nothing. Wasn’t that strange? He knew he should... should feel something, shouldn’t he? He tried to search inside himself for any trace of tears, sadness or horror, perhaps, anything, anything! What is wrong with you, Brian? He couldn’t help it. His mind was blank and heavy. Cold and tired... feeling nothing.

He pulled.


	21. The Invisible Deaks

“He’s pretty unbelievable, isn’t he?” Roger mumbled, hypnotising Freddie’s back.

John nodded.

After Brian pulled the plug, they got out of the cursed room as quickly as possible, no matter the danger of getting caught. They had n’t met a soul so far, luck stood on their side at least a little bit. The experience left them all blue and shaken nonetheless.

Brian tried to look normal, he really did. And a stranger would be fooled. But under all the act, it was like a giant hammer shattered him inside into sharp little pieces, leaving nothing but a bloody disorganised mess. Too confusing for any coherent emotions, only hurting with every step and every breath.

Roger wanted to comfort Brian, with all his heart, but couldn’t find a way how. Several times he opened his mouth only to close it again, and every time he tried to touch the hurt man, Brian flinched and drew himself away.

Hard to say what John was feeling, he looked as level-headed as usual, just even more taciturn.

Freddie, on the other hand, was simply incredible. As if the horror simply couldn’t touch him. He walked beside Brian, calming and reassuring smile ready on his face, quietly chatting about simple things to prevent Brian’s sinking into deeper melancholy. Brian didn’t give any indication if he welcomed the procedure or not, but no complaint is also a review.

“So... that’s it,” Roger said quietly when they got to the familiar metal entrance of the mines. “Shall we?”

Nobody wanted to. With all the sadness, and heaviness inside them... going through that door seemed almost like walking into one’s own dark grave.

Freddie glanced at each of them. “Open the door and lead the way, Roggie,” he asked calmly and turned to Brian. “You, darling, look, we’re good, you see? We’ getting out of here, now. Going home. What do you say, dear?”

Brian nodded. “Good.” He wasn’t looking at Freddie, but that didn’t matter.

“We’ll have to handle the dark now, okay?” John emphasized. “The most important is to stay calm and follow the tracks on the floor. We don’t have the map with us, so if we lose the track, we’re lost. I’d prefer that not happening. Clear? Let’s go.”

They slipped through the door and the darkness embraced them, along with the familiar smell of large underground spaces.

Freddie lit up his phone. Its light coloured all their faces as blue as they really felt.

“Brian, dear, Roger is going to hold your hand now,” Freddie said softly, “is that alright?”

“Yeah... it is,” Brian exhaled shakily, and Roger nearly cried with relief as he slipped his hand into Brian’s. He wasn’t quite sure if this was supposed to help Brian or himself, but either way, he was grateful.

“Here,” John pointed to the ground, “all the footprints lead to the left. Let’s go.”

 

It was a strenuous journey, maybe even worse than the last time. Shorter, that’s true, but with all the emotional baggage they already carried, not to mention the fear of being followed and killed.

Roger felt his emotional swings creeping up on him back again. He wanted to scream and cry, and rip everyone’s throat out in a frustration. He missed the calming fuzzy warm the DHA always gave him, and he missed the boost of energy that always followed. Yeah, he’d make a good use of that here. Instead, he could only hold onto Brian’s hand as if it were a safety rope.

Even Freddie was slowly losing his supportive composure, clutching John’s upper arm, most probably bruising him in the process. He remembered the last time they got into these mines. John hurt his hands and then let him kiss them. Strange shiver ran through him at the memory, and he felt a sudden need to do that again. Why? Funny thing. He looked at John in the feeble blue light. Yes, these hands, he could press his face into them, those long clever fingers touching him gently... Once Freddie thought about it, he could find many places on John he’d very much like to kiss. The urge was quite new and confusing, but Freddie treated it the same way as all the strange things he encountered lately - He simply accepted it as a new fact.

John focused on the path and current moment only. He was calm. Or maybe not, but that didn’t matter. Situations like this – hard, nerve-wracking, dangerous... This was something he had been trained for. His captain couldn’t, so naturally, he took the lead. To get them all out safe, that responsibility fell upon his shoulders. And he decided he wouldn’t fail.

“The tunnel is changing,” he pointed out after more than half an hour of the monotonous nerve-wracking walk, “it looks like a concrete. A fresh one too.”

“The ceiling’s also higher,” Freddie looked up. “We must be getting close.”

“But close to what?”

“Rog?” Brian said suddenly.

“Yes?”

“You’re breaking my fingers.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Alright,” John stopped and turned to others, “whatever the Institute has there, we need to get through it. It’s our only chance. So, from this point, be quiet and ready to take cover. With a bit of luck, it’s the only way how not get noticed.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to pretend we belong here?” Freddie suggested. “A bunch of guys trying to hide would be much more suspicious.”

“Perhaps,” John nodded, “but we have no idea what we’re supposed to pretend we are. Until we know, we won’t do anything risky. Brian, Rog? Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Roger nodded and touched the collar of dark bruises forming on his neck. It hurt.

John turned back to continue down the tunnel and everybody followed him without question. In his mind, John made a note to get Brian a posy at the nearest opportunity, for all the times when he had to do this – lead the way and have a group of people trusting you and depending on you. People you want and need to be safe... Yeah... harder than it looked.

“What’s that echo around here?” Roger whispered.

John frowned. “Heavy machines? People talking...” The muffled noises sounded so... unbecoming in the place of deafening silence the mine used to be. And maybe it was just his imagination working, but suddenly John felt a soft draught coming towards them, moving the stale air trapped in these corridors for centuries. He touched Freddie’s hand, which was still glued to his upper arm, firm grip nearly stopping the arm’s circulation. John didn’t ask him to let go though. It felt nice, around the cold mass of glassy sand and stone to have something warm, living and breathing so palpably close.

“They’re building something,” Brian interrupted John’s thoughts. Apparently, the prospect of some action instead of hesitant wandering around helped him escape his mental slumber, at least for now.

“Something huge with a secret corridor right from RISUGI?” Roger muttered. “My guess is on a joke shop.”

John exhaled. “Let’s go. Act natural.”

Very soon it became apparent they got on the right track. The corridor was getting wider, taller and the fresh smell of air made their breathing way easier, along with the prospect of not getting killed in an endless underground after all.

Gate at the end of the corridor meant the end. Not that they were out, not at all, but at least a tiny part of their journey was over successfully. The gate appeared massive, and as the last ten meters of the corridor rose up, John guessed they must be above the surface by now.

Careful. They pressed themselves on the walls to attract as little attention as possible from people behind the gate. Luckily, it was already opened wide, but almost completely blocked by a large truck.

“What the hell is this supposed to be,” Roger breathed out, as they slipped around the doorframe, seeking cover behind the car’s body. They could only sense a wide, closed space they appeared in, as well as at least ten people in it, possibly more. If they focused, they could even catch parts of conversations.

“They’re unloading something,” Brian pointed out quietly. Luckily, none of the workers, nor driver noticed four strangers behind the car.

“Cement,” Freddie, who was closest to the back of the car, answered immediately. “Something’s being built here. Something big.”

“The truck’s gonna drive away,” Roger whispered, “we must move.”

Their next cover turned out to be quite natural – behind the several meters high newly created pile of cement bags from the truck. All it took was a well-timed moment, and soon all four intruders were pressed between the heavy bags and a not-plastered wall still breathing of freshness.

During the move they finally got a glance of the place they appeared in. It was indeed a closed space – an enormous hall. And also – a construction site. There were only four plain walls with windows at the top of them, half of the ceiling, and a floor. There were piles of sand, concrete, bricks and heavy machines all over the place. Workers seemed to keep themselves busy, shouting, laughing, hammering, digging, drilling...

“I know what this is!” Freddie turned to the others excitedly. In all that noise nobody noticed the conversation behind the cement. “Rog, you know the closed factory just behind the city. As if you’re heading to New Lynn, then turn right-”

“Yeah, I know that one!” Roger interrupted him and looked around. “Dammit, are you sure?”

“I’m dammit sure, darling. I recognize these weird windows. This place is officially abandoned, by the way,” he turned to John and Brian. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

Brian nodded. “Indeed. Could it be just a reconstruction?”

Roger shrugged. “Hardly. A reconstruction nobody knows about, not even Miami, directly connected with RISUGI’s basement through mines which are supposed to be out of order for centuries. Something stinks here. And I’m saying that as someone who saw an organ donor farm. Oh, sorry,” he added quickly towards Brian, who visibly shook.

“We need to figure this out,” John decided, “but later. Now I really don’t care what they do as much as I care when they finish doing it so we can get out.”

Freddie looked around nervously. Somewhere near them, the workers started a pneumatic drill, filling the air with a hellish high-pitched noise.

“We just wait?” he mouthed towards the others.

Brian and John nodded in synchrony. Yes... we can only wait.

***

“Let me guess, Mr. Foster,” John Reid reclined in his chair, as he watched the Head of Security squirming in front of his desk, “of course, I called you here to ask about the latest developments. And of course, you’re going to tell me, that I have nothing to worry about, because nothing happened, nothing was stolen, no one got hurt and the intruders were caught. Is that so?”

Foster swallowed. “Well... nothing was stolen. Except for-”

“So, something was stolen,” Reid noted. “And from your lack of response in the other areas... So? What happened, Foster? Or no, please,” Reid added, and raised his hand in denial, “maybe it would be better you spare me. I have only one set of nerves, and I fear further descriptions of your incompetence may impact them in a very unfortunate way.”

“The investigation is in progress as we speak, sir,” Forster took the word quickly before Reid could shush him again. “It seems after murdering the poor man, they stole his keys and escaped in the service elevator.”

“I think the poor man, as you called him, very much appreciates your precise reconstruction of the events,” Reid said wryly, “however, I’m interested in prevention. That’s why I called you here. Not to listen to your rambling or excuses, but there is someone I want you to meet. Come in, Paul!”

Foster quickly turned around as the door clicked and a man walked in the room. Medium height, light brown hair, sly eyes and an arrogant face, he seemed very pleased with himself.

“I’m glad you could come this time of day,” Reid said calmly, knowing he couldn’t have been disobeyed. “I introduce you Ray Foster, the head of Queen’s security forces. Foster, this is Paul Prenter, former deputy head of my personal team, now, your new assistant.”

Prenter smiled and reached to shake Foster’s hand, but he ignored him.

“Sir, I don’t need an assistant!”

Reid raised an eyebrow. “Are those criminals safely arrested then?”

“Not yet, but-”

“Then it’s clear there is something about this situation you can’t handle,” Reid concluded sweetly. “That’s why, from now on, you’ll have Paul by your side.” Foster almost looked like getting smaller on hi chair while Reid leaned against his desk forward. “He’ll give me regular every day updates on your work with his own evaluation attached. You two shall also closely cooperate on getting these astronauts and whoever’s helping them. You’ll listen to Paul’s ideas, and act accordingly, is that understood?”

Foster exhaled. “Sir... I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“That’s a shame, because I do think it is very necessary,” Reid replied, “and my opinion matters more than yours, I’m afraid. So once again, am I understood?”

“Perfectly, sir,” Foster nodded and glared at Prenter with only barely hidden distaste.

Prenter’s smile got even wider. “In my opinion, sir,” he turned to Reid, “the course of action is quite clear. The murder today shows how violent and dangerous these individuals are, nonetheless, considering the circumstances, we must admit they aren’t stupid. That’s why we need to stop waiting for their mistake and rather create an opportunity for them to make it.“

“I leave it in your hands, Prenter,” Reid got up and looked over both his subordinates. “All resources are at your disposal. I want the rebels found. Now, get out, both of you.”

***

John spread out on the bed and stretched his muscles in pure delight, feeling the sheets under his skin. The familiar smell of Freddie’s apartment combined with the soap he felt from his freshly clean body and new pyjamas. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensations.

It took hours... hours of waiting behind the cold damp cement bags in a space too narrow for sitting down, in a noise piercing their ears with screeches making his face cringe even now, long after they got out. After the workers left, and with their universal key, that part was easy.

John was unsettled. He knew he should thank God for their escape, but he couldn’t but wonder... When they got out and headed home, he felt dirty, in more than just literal meaning of the word. They didn’t get what they came from, and they killed... John could have comforted himself that it hadn’t been him who did it, but they were a group. All for one, one for all, as musketeers would say. So far, they had been an innocent bunch just trying to survive and get home, that’s what he believed, but now, after this... What exactly were they? Thieves? Killers? He sighed. Who can say? And then there’s the issue of what they saw. Something even Miami failed to notice. Something Institute hid even from its own workers, from its own network. What were they building? And for whom? Who knows?

But now... in the very moment, John did his best to push these fruitless contemplations aside. He was safe, clean and sleepy, and he knew how to appreciate these little gifts. Queen, Institute, danger, repugnant filth and death crept into his life... he wouldn’t allow them to get into his head as well.

He heard Freddie singing in the shower, soft tunes mixing with the running water. There was something right and domestic in this. John smiled and allowed himself to doze off...

Bang! A loud smash from the bathroom startled him awake.

“Freddie!”

Oh, thank God, Freddie was alive, if one could judge from the string of curses coming from the bathroom. John just had to giggle.

“Freddie?” he called amusedly and got up to check on the man. “Are you alright?”

He found Freddie squatted on the bathroom floor, still wet and naked from the shower, picking up all the bathroom proprieties from the ground. Few of the glasses were broken, hence the noise from before. Nothing of this would be extraordinary in any way, wouldn’t John notice that the wetness on his friend’s face probably came from more than just shower.

John blinked in surprise. “Eh... Freddie?”

“I knocked down the shelf,” Freddie complained and gestured dramatically all around. “Now all’s broken and-”

“Freddie,” John interrupted him gently and offered his hand, “please, get up and come away from the shards. We can clean this later.”

He tried to ignore the fact Freddie was pretty much still naked when he led him to the bedroom. With his whole face wet, John wasn’t sure, but when he softly touched Freddie’s cheek and then licked his finger, it tasted salty.

“Oh, Freddie...,” John whispered, “will you tell me? What’s going on? Is it about today?”

“I... I guess... I don’t know!” Freddie gasped shakily, fighting over a new flood of tears. “I just wanted to look in the mirror and stepped back and the shelf fell and it just all...”

John hesitated a bit, but then offered his embrace, which was quickly accepted. Water soaked unpleasantly through his warm pyjamas, but he couldn’t care less.  
“Shhh, shhh...”

Freddie quickly relaxed, but something stayed. John could feel the tension under the skin of the bundle of a man in his arms.

“Tell me everything,” he whispered, hoping that even with this vague invitation he gets to the point.

“I just... wanted to look,” Freddie mumbled after a minute of hesitation.

“To look?”

“I wanted to look in the mirror from more afar, to... to see more, that’s why the shelf went down.”

John quickly considered the size of the bathroom and the size of the mirror, and really, one would either knock the shelf down or make a hole in the wall trying to see more than just a face.

“I could hold it for you, if you want,” he offered, still not understanding the emotional state Freddie was in.

Freddie shook his head. “No... Deaky, darling, but...,” he swiftly unwrapped himself from the embrace and stood in the middle of the bedroom, “... but look at me!”

Oh, Jesus Christ. John did as he was told and even in the air of anxiety, tension and tears, he couldn’t help but twitch in his pants.  
His raven-haired beauty was just standing in front of him, naked as a word of God, burning him with a questioning stare.

“I’m... looking,” John nodded and tried to prevent his gaze from slipping ehm... down there, oh, good, sweet Lord... “What am I supposed to see?” he asked.

“Just, this!” Freddie vaguely gesticulated around his body, distraught by John’s cluelessness. “Do I... does it all... look good to you? Deaky?”

“Ehm... “ Yes! Yes! Yes! “...ah... I see nothing wrong with anything... anatomically speaking,” John felt his cheeks flush a bit. “It’s all... aesthetical. The whole of you.”

“You’re saying that just because I asked.”

“No!” John jumped up from the bed. “No, Freddie, I mean it, I really mean it, you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever-“ he stopped, taken a bit aback by his own words. “...- I’ve ever met.”

Freddie’s eyes widened a bit. “Really?”

John nodded. “Really. Now, what about you... wrap yourself in a towel or something? Please?”

“I just never really thought about it,” Freddie admitted and sat back on the bed, ignoring John’s request, “but lately I just can’t help but want you to... look at me... and to like what you see. To really like it. Really much.”

“I do like it, Freddie. Really very much.” Too much, that would be precise. Way too much. John kneaded the hem of his pyjamas feeling soft fabric under his fingers, tasting the dryness of his mouth, hints of toothpaste still in. What on Earth even is this situation? He was beyond confused.

“I can’t help but wonder,” Freddie continued, now hypnotizing a carpet pattern, “if you’d be here... if you wouldn’t have to. I know you don’t belong here and you want to run away the moment it’s possible-”

“Let me stop you here,” John just had enough, “Freddie.”

Without even much thinking about it, he knelt next to the bed and took Freddie’s hands in his.

“All this,” he emphasised, “I admit, wasn’t planned at all when Brian and I left Earth. But now there’s four of us, in it together. I won’t leave you, Freddie. Never.”

The tension in the air was almost palpable, thick and warm. Red light of Almira coloured their faces through thin gaps between draperies.

John studied Freddie’s face.  
“If you want,” he whispered after a while, “I can tell you something. A secret no one knows about. Just between you and me. My secret.”

Freddie looked up at him. “What secret, darling?”

“About that ship. Fairy King,” John sighed. “I know Brian told you about it.”

“The ship you saved! I wrote a song about it for you.”

“Yeah...,” the bed creaked as John shifted uncomfortably, “it wasn’t... I didn’t... eh... it’s just a bit more complicated than that. But no one knows.”

“You didn’t save the ship?”

“I did, but... it wasn’t brave or anything. I don’t deserve the credit everyone gave me. Even Brian looks at me as at some sort of a hero. I’m not.” John pressed his lips together.

Freddie looked at him doubtfully. “From what I could see just today, Deaky, darling... you are. But tell me. What about Fairy King?”

John didn’t answer immediately. He got up, and walked to the window to adjust draperies, his posture clearly tense, but resigned.  
“It was years ago,” he started quietly, looking away from Freddie, “my first mission with a real ship and a real crew. One of the big ones, 40 people on board. I worked for two months long mission as a junior technician. You know, there are two main dangers for every crew. The first one is atmosphere – after start and before landing the whole ship faces incredibly high temperatures. That’s why the whole surface is covered by enhanced polymeric sheets, which should be able to resist. The second one, that’s radiation. Radioactive particles can come from anywhere in space, most often stars. They are unexpectable... and deadly. The usual amounts would be dangerous only if we went out, they wouldn’t get through the metal coating, but here and there... high intensity beams can appear, able to get through anything. That’s why is every ship equipped with a magnetic field generator. The field deflects the particles and keeps the ship and the crew safe. The Fairy King was built exactly like that. The two months were almost over, and we headed home, when a tiny, undetected asteroid hit us. Nobody got hurt, but several sheets from the surface got damaged. Easy thing to repair... if the magnetic generator wasn’t damaged by the impact as well. It would be a madness to go out without that protection, a suicide.”

Freddie was listening in suspense, hanging onto John’s every word. “So... what did you do, darling?”

“That night wasn’t my shift,” John replied, “so I slept through it. In the morning, I heard everyone panicking over the sheets and thought ‘what’s the deal’. I put on a space suit and went out to fix it. I had no idea about the magnetic field not being there to protect me.” John giggled nervously. “You can imagine how I felt when I got there, replaced the sheets and saw the damaged generator. I fixed that one as well and run back to take cover...,” he shook his head, “... it’s a miracle I didn’t die. Because of my own idiocy.”

“But you saved them!” Freddie protested. “What would happen if the sheets and generator weren’t fixed?”

“We wouldn’t be able to go through any atmosphere,” John replied immediately. “That means no landing. About the generator... with some luck we wouldn’t be hit by any greater amount of radiation until the arrival of a service ship. That would take, I guess, two weeks. Food supplies would get problematic, but... we’d manage. Maybe.”

“Maybe. Forty people would survive – maybe. You saved them, darling!”

“That’s not the point!” John exclaimed. “It was my job to fix those things, but I don’t deserve to be looked at like some kind of a hero who intended to sacrifice himself to save others. I was unexperienced, careless and stupid. It’s a miracle nothing happened. I never wanted to be famous because of a mistake. That’s what this was. A mistake.” He breathed heavily. “It’s... one of the reasons why I volunteered for this mission along with Brian. I wanted to help a friend, but also... I knew if I do this, it would be an achievement I did intentionally. Something special I managed.”

“Oh, John,” Freddie jumped up and hurried to hug him tightly. John buried his face into Freddie’s soft shoulder, breathing in the faint smell of soap and a human body. “You’ve done so many exceptional things, dear, and I’m talking just today,” Freddie whispered, “you deserve to be known for them all. You are a hero, Deaky, darling. A real one.”

They stood in silence for a moment in the tight embrace, lost in each other’s comforting presence.

“Freddie,” John mumbled.

“Yes, dear?”

“... would you mind getting dressed?”


	22. Paul on the Prowl

A loud scream aroused Roger from his sleep and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He sat up sharply.  
Not that it would be completely unexpected, but still... He glanced at his watch. Woken up after less than two hours of sleep. Brilliant.  
He kneaded his eyes sleepily and listened to the whimpers and heavy breaths coming from the living room. Maybe it’ll go away... Some nights it did...

“NO!” This screech was even louder and more desperate than the previous one. “NO, PLEASE! NO!”

Apparently not. Roger jumped up from bed and headed to the living room.

Brian’s blanket he found on the floor, kicked down and abandoned. Its owner was asleep, but his body looked dreadfully tensed, nearly convulsive. Sweat was glistening on his naked skin and pyjamas were soaked.  
His face contorted in heart-wrenching sobs.

“Please, don’t...,” he begged helplessly, “no, I don’t... NO! ROGER! ROGER!”

What the actual... Roger had heard Brian scream many things, but this was a new one. He couldn’t tell how it made him feel.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he mumbled with a soft hint of resigned routine, “all good, Bri. I’m here, all limbs attached... all good.”

He picked the blanket from the ground, positioned himself next to sleeping Brian in a big spoon fashion, careful not to wake him up but close enough to snuggle.

“Today got you all worked up, hm?” Roger mumbled somewhere around Brian’s shoulder. “I don’t blame you, I’d have it pretty much the same if someone I know... Freddie’s already fragile as he is and now you... like this... I’m worried, you know? This can’t be right. You can’t even get a good sleep like this. To be honest, neither can I, but that’s not just your fault, it’s... complicated.” Roger always found it strangely freeing to talk to sleeping Brian. It enabled him to say what he’d never let out of his mouth otherwise. “You know,” he continued, “everything we did with Freddie, or even the stuff with you and John... somehow, I always felt safe. I just never realized how real it all was – and I’m counting in the time you had me jump out of the helicopter. But this...” Roger softly touched the violet handprints on his neck. They still hurt. “... and when I recall your face after you killed the guy... Ugh, I guess this won’t really help you sleep, will it?”

“It’s ok?”

“WHAT!”

Brian turned around quickly just in time to save Roger from falling on the ground.

“Let go of me!”

“Roger!”

Roger wriggled out of Brian’s embrace and jumped up on his feet. “You’re awake! How long are you awake?”

“I don’t... I...,” Brian seemed upset and confused, his stare hopping between Roger and the room around. “.... give me a minute?” he asked quietly.

Roger nodded, trying to calm his breath. “Take your time.”

It seemed way longer than a minute, the two men staring at each other in the dark. Then Roger decided none of them was probably getting any sleep any time soon, so he went to the window and drew the black draperies apart. Light of Almira filled the room.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Brian swallowed. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“That’s not the issue, Bri.” Roger walked over to the sink and filled a glass. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”

“Thanks...,” Brian didn’t argue and took the water. “What exactly... happened?”

“Eh... You nearly screamed your lungs out.”

Brian hunched a bit more as if he wished the sofa would swallow him. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I suppose, today... with everything that happened... I just lost my nerves. Go to sleep, it won’t happen again.”

Roger, instead of leaving, sat down with a sigh. “This isn’t the first time it happened. And I think it’s not the last time either.”

“What? And...,” Brian looked nervous, “... how many times...?”

“At least seven... eight times. It’s alright!” Roger added hastily when he saw Brian’s face. “I didn’t mind, really, and I don’t mind now. I just want to understand why. I want to help, I... I’m worried about you,” he admitted, “I care about you a great deal, you know. No matter how big of a pain in the arse you can be sometimes. You make me... tingle.”

Brian furrowed his eyebrows, distracted from his dream for a moment. “Tingle?”

“Yeah... just lately, when I’m close to you, I just...,” Roger sighed and hugged his middle like a hedgehog trying to hide. “... forget it. Just tell me if there’s any way I can help. You promised me honesty, remember?”

“I don’t think you can help, Rog,” Brian tugged a corner of the blanket and started fidgeting with it, “I don’t think anybody can. Until tonight nobody even knew about it. Except Deaky.”

Roger looked him in the eyes and hesitantly reached for his hand. “Brian... tell me everything.” It was a simple request and to his endless surprise Brian didn’t refuse.

“It’s hard... to talk about it,” he admitted quietly, “and I don’t think I’ve ever really had. I already told you before why I had to leave my studies.”

“Yes. You said you had to take care of your family... your son.”

Brian nodded. “That I had to. Back then... it was a really bad time, not just for me, but for everybody. Two years prior there had been a collapse on the market, I won’t get into details about that, but the point is, people were losing basically everything. Their money, their savings, their jobs... even the shittiest opportunity for a stable income was to die for. And there I was – no qualification, no real skills, no starting capital, no contacts, but a wife and a child. After some time, it became clear there was only one option that was left for me. I didn’t want to, God, I didn’t want to, but I had to... and Chrissie insisted, and there was Jimmy and I had no other choice...”

Roger pressed Brian’s hand. “What did you do?”

Brian sighed. “Since the last great war, long ago, all the nations tied themselves together so it would be impossible to start a new one ever again. World peace... in theory.” He chuckled. “As if people were remotely able of that.”

“So... there was a new war? But if not between countries, who did it?”

“Corporations,” Brian explained. “Only large businesses are powerful and rich enough to afford a war, and no government, not even all of them united are able to stop them. They’re getting desperate for new resources, mines, lands... you name it. So... I signed up to one of their armies. Stable income... certain position... a dream job, truly.” He sounded bitter. “A dream job for two fucking years. By the time human soldiers were preferred over drones and automats. Creative mind is something no software can replace. Interceptors could be, of course, operated on long distances, but our owners decided it would be more effective if we found ourselves directly in danger. More motivating, more stimulating, they said. Who cares people die? There is always another, desperate to fill the vacancy.”

Roger listened to the avalanche of words fired off in that quiet, desperate and passionate voice. His gaze was fixated on Brian’s lips.

“That’s where you learned how to fly, isn’t it?”

Brian nodded. “Yes, it is. I chose the flying because I figured – I could imagine there were no people in the machines I send burning to the ground. I could keep my distance.” He chuckled again. “Soon it all became a lot messier. I... I killed people, Rog. I’m not even sure how many it was. Not just in the air, but on the ground, I saw their eyes going blind under my hand, and after time... I stopped feeling remorse, mercy or pity. They wanted me to be a monster, so I became one. That’s what I see in my dreams, Rog. I’m walking on the street, in a forest or wherever... and other people walk against me. And I kill them,” he added matter-of-factly, only his voice shook, “I kill them, every single one, and in my head, I know I must do it for my wife, for my son, no other way. But the dead get up again, covered in blood – and they’re no strangers anymore, it’s people I know, it’s my family, my friends, people I love, pointing fingers at me, blaming me... All dead... and because of me.”

He couldn’t hold it any longer. Brian sobbed, and tears he had held in his eyes flooded his face. Roger tried to embrace him, but he drew himself away, shaking.

“Brian. You know it’s not real,” Roger reminded him. “I’m alive, we’re all alive, you possibly couldn’t do anything to hurt us. And for sure you’re not a monster.”

“I saw your face when I shot that guard.”

“You saved my life!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Brian exclaimed. “Don’t you understand? It’s not just about what I did, it’s about what it did to me. Things like that... change people, Rog. Forever.”

“Have you talked about it to anyone?” Roger asked. “On Earth?”

Brian shook his head. “I couldn’t let anyone know. Never. Or do you think NASA would ever allow anyone this wrecked into space? I controlled myself for so many years. But here... on Queen... I’m losing it, Rog. I’m scared.”

“Because of the Institute?”

“Because of what we’re about to do!”

Roger frowned. “What exactly?”

“The revolution!” Brian raised his voice impatiently. “You are rebels, we are rebels, trying to overcome the Institute, isn’t it so? All the revolutions in history turned out bloody. Or do you really think RISUGI just gives up if we ask them nicely? People will die, Roger, a lot of them, before this is over. There will be pain, loss, maybe war even. It has already started. With the guard. We will kill again. Soon. Because we have no choice – or however we choose to justify it. But the reason doesn’t matter, I figured that much.”

“Nobody will force you to kill, Bri, unless you want to,” Roger said slowly. “Whatever happens. I promise.”

“Don’t promise me anything, Rog,” Brian said tiredly, “I appreciate it, but the only way how to avoid this is to contact Earth. That’s what we need to do.”

“There is no way how to do that, Bri. Believe me.”

“I know...”

They sat next to each other silently for a long time, both taking comfort from each other’s company, before Roger suddenly got up.

“Come. We’ve done enough brooding for tonight.”

Brian frowned. “Come... where?”

“To the bed.”

“You want me to take the bed?”

“No, I want us to take the bed.”

In the red light of Almira wasn’t Brian’s blush that visible as he feared when he stammered: “We... we can’t be in the bed together.”

Roger raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Eh... it’s an Earth thing, hard to explain.”

“You’re on Queen now, Brian,” Roger said resolutely. “And let me see – there’s no way I’m leaving you alone and there’s no way we can both sleep on this sofa. It’s not a quantum physics to figure!”

“It would be much easier if it were,” Brian mumbled, but followed Roger to the bedroom, and soon they both snuggled up under the blanket.

Brian wrapped his arms around Roger, who let out a moan at the touch.

“Roger?”

“... yes?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, of course,” Roger said a bit more nonchalantly than would be believable.

“Are you sure?” Brian touched his forehead. “You’re burning.”

“I’m fine, Brian, just... don’t touch me that much, it’s... making me feel weird. Good night.”

“Good night, Rog.”

 

***

 

Pity we don’t have more of these cats, Freddie decided, once the new exposition was finished. Were it up to him, the museum would show nothing else.  
Perhaps one day we’ll go to Earth, he smiled at the thought, and then we’ll open a Museum of Cats. With John. And with lots of singing. John said even that’s a way how to earn money on Earth. Freddie giggled. Crazy planet.

“Farrokh?” Mary peeped out from the door.

“I’m dusting, Mary!” Freddie replied automatically, leaning over the showcase a bit more.

She sighed. “There is some guy here.”

Well, that was unexpected. “A visitor?”

“Possibly," Mary shrugged. "Young, slender, healthy-looking... asking for you.”

“Where is he now?”

“First floor, near the fire extinguisher.”

 

Freddie's heart fluttered with anticipation as he ran down the stairs. “My darling, not that I wouldn’t love to see you-“ he stopped abruptly when the visitor stepped from behind the corner.

“My darling, I love to see you too.” Roger raised an eyebrow. “But I think “Roger” would be just fine.”

“Oh, come now,” Freddie waved his hand. “What can I do for you?”

Roger showed him a little box he held in his hands. “Miami finally downloaded everything, so we can return these where you found them. I figured the sooner the better.”

Freddie nodded. “Follow me.”

“Also,” Roger continued as they walked down the stairs to the storeroom, “I have a favour to ask from you.”

“I’m all ears, dear.”

“I need some books about Earth.”

Freddie looked at him, surprised. “Where are you taking the sudden interest from? Some specific topic?”

“All of them. I need to read all the books about Earth you have.”

Before Freddie could answer, they were interrupted by a museum intercom, echoing in the empty halls.

ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ALL EMPLOYEES PRESENT YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY IN THE MAIN HALL! ATTENTION!

“What is that?”

Freddie swallowed. “I don’t know, they never asked for us like this before. Quick,” he pushed a key in Roger’s hand, “third door in this corridor, shelf 24, the very top. Put it there, lock the door, and get out of here. Have to go.”

 

Freddie ran all the way but appeared in the hall as the last one anyway. All the other employees were already aligned in front of their boss. Next to him, there was a man in the uniform of RISUGI – the fancier version. And at least twenty soldiers stood around the hall, which made Freddie’s heart sink. What the hell...

“This should be all,” Freddie’s boss announced with relief. “Bulsara, get in the line. Now.”

Freddie obediently took his place next to Mary, and the RISUGI-man made a step forth.

“My name is Paul Prenter,” he smiled at all the museum employees, who exchanged confused glances, “and I’m the Deputy Head of Security of Queen. It’s a new position, and I’m planning on making it a successful one. As a response to certain violent attacks in recent days, our department announces a new safety policy. That’s why I gathered you all here, while our soldiers search the building as we speak. There is no need to be afraid,” he added, “we do everything for the greater good and better safety of all the citizens of Queen.”

They want to take the drives, occurred to Freddie, they must have realized what we’re after. What other reason they could have for choosing a museum of all the buildings? He felt a cold sweat dripping down his back. Roger... they’ll find him...

“Now,” Prenter continued, “I need to ask you for help. Have you seen in the past two months anything out of the ordinary?”

Everybody shook their head, but it seemed Prenter didn’t take that for an answer. Slowly, he walked along the line and looked every man or woman in the eyes.  
Finally, he stood in front of Freddie, his cold blue stare measuring him.

“Well, have you seen anything uncommon?”

Freddie shook his head. “Not at all, sir. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

Prenter said nothing for a while, before he suddenly asked: “What’s your name?”

“Eh, Farrokh Bulsara, sir.” Why? Why is he asking? Does he suspect anything? But what could he...

“What floor do you work on?”

“Fifth, sir. Zoology section.” Freddie tried to be as brief and factual as possible.

Prenter nodded. “Together with your colleague here?” He pointed to Mary.

“That’s correct, sir.”

“Then why didn’t you two come together to this meeting?”

Freddie swallowed. “I... I needed to get new cleaning supplies from the storage room.”

“The storage room?” Prenter repeated and Freddie would slap himself.

“Yes, sir... that’s where we keep it.”

“And you?” Prenter turned to Mary. “Have you ever seen anything unusual lately?”

She looked him straight in the eyes. “Not to my recollection, sir.”

The relief Freddie felt almost made him fly. Dear Mary. Dear, dearest Mary.

 

Suddenly, the door opened again, and a soldier entered, announcing the search had been completed.

“That will be all from us,” Prenter announced. “I’m truly sorry for the disturbances.”

And with that, he left and all the soldiers with him.

 

“What was that?” Mary whispered when the meeting was finished, and all the employees headed back for their work.

“No idea,” Freddie mumbled, “listen, I need to go to the storage room-”

Mary stopped in her tracks and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, do you?”

“Yes... for the cleaning supplies.”

“Actually,” she smiled, “you just reminded me, I need some as well. I think I’ll just go with you.”

“Oh, there’s no need, dear,” Freddie assured her, “just tell me what you need.”

“Aren’t you the best friend, Farrokh. I think I’ll go with you. Have a little walk and all that.”

Freddie tried some more arguments and all of them were dismissed. No, he couldn’t waste any more time, he needed to know what happened to Roger.

His heart pounded like a hammer in his chest. The storage was locked, and lights shut down. Everything looked perfectly... normal.  
Freddie wasted no time and headed for the stepladder to check on the drives.

“Farrokh, what the hell are you doing?”

Gone. Either Prenter’s men took them, or... or they found out they’re gone. Oh, God... Freddie shivered. And where the hell is Roger? With all the search going on and soldiers around, there’s no way he could’ve make it out in time.  
Frantically, he started looking around and opening various closets. He didn’t care Mary could see, Roger was his first concern.

“Roger? Are you anywhere around?” he called quietly. “Roger, it’s Freddie!”

Mary raised an eyebrow, but before she could ask about the name, a soft rustle sounded from a cupboard next to her.  
Decisively, she walked over to it and flung its door open.

Two pairs of blue eyes met. Roger smiled hesitantly, cramped in the little space like a sardine in a tin.  
Mary turned to speechless Freddie and her expression was mostly exasperated.

“What is this, another electrician?”

“Eh... this one is a dentist,” Freddie corrected her and helped Roger out, “so... this is Mary, my colleague, Mary... this is Roger.”

“Pleasure,” Mary assured him and turned to Freddie again. “What the hell is this thing with men hiding around here?”

“Mary, darling, I really think it’s better if we forget about this.”

“I lied because of you, I deserve to know!”

Instead of an answer, Freddie turned to Roger. “Did you manage... ehm...?”

“Yes, I was just about to leave when they appeared, so I hid in the cupboard.” Roger brushed off his jacket. “You wouldn’t believe how small the thing is inside. And it stinks, almost like-”

“Now listen to me, both of you,” Mary interrupted him, hands on her hips, “if somebody doesn’t immediately explain to me what’s going on, I’m going to find that Prenter guy and-”

“Mary!” Freddie exclaimed. “Please, no! I wish I could tell you, I really want to, but... this is way too complicated. Perhaps I will tell you, later, dear, but now... I can’t. We can’t. Please, Mary.”

Her glance was jumping from Freddie to Roger and back again. Then she sighed.

“I suppose you want to get out now, Roger.”

He nodded.

“Preferably so nobody would see you leave?”

Another nod.

For a few seconds all three just stared at each ther, all trying to guess what's on the minds of others and all failing.

“I take the cleaning supplies and lock the storage," Mary said. "You get this... dentist out of here and we meet upstairs.”

“You’re the best friend, Mary,” Freddie hugged her shortly, “we’re off.”

Mary watched them leave before she turned to the cupboard for a duster and a window cleaner.


	23. In the Lap of the Dentist

It was two weeks since the last visit of the Institute and discovery of Tim’s fate. Since then, Brian and Roger fell into a domestic routine which worked for both. 

Roger woke up a while ago but stayed in bed. Eyes closed, he listened to the sounds of Brian’s early morning exercises from behind the wall. Brian did them every day to get the strength he’d lost during his space trip. From what Roger could say, it worked. Muscles on his lean body looked certainly more pronounced, or better more “existing”, than when he had arrived. Until recently, Roger haven’t paid it much attention. Across the last weeks though, somehow, he liked to look. 

With a soft smile, Roger listened to the heavy breaths and occasional pants from the living room. Perhaps he could crawl out of the bed and watch. He’d done it before. He knew what he’d see... Brian, stripped down into his underwear, red in the face and out of breath, determined to reach such-and-such number of push-ups. Usually around twenty the pale skin of his back started to glisten with sweat.

Roger squirmed restlessly, as the sheets felt heavy and rough, though the touch wasn’t unpleasant. Actually... he wiggled some more, and the friction made him sigh in pleasure. Was that normal? Roger certainly wasn’t in the mood for some internal philosophical discussion. The only thing he cared about was to keep doing whatever this was.

In the meantime, Brian finished his workout and headed for a shower. Roger listened to the running water and suddenly, he felt hot and... bothered, somehow. He imagined Brian, under the water, all wet and soapy... He pressed himself against the sheets some more and wriggled furiously. It started to feel funny between his legs, Roger whimpered, turned on his stomach and ground against the mattress.   
Sudden pleasure hit him almost like a hammer in a chest, punching out a soft “ah”. What...   
Cautiously, purely for the purposes of an experiment, Roger did it again. Again. And again, oh, again... He kept grinding, tossing, and wriggling on the bed, and with each second the sensations became more urgent, desperate and burning. Brian in the bathroom was now humming some tune and Roger couldn’t help but imagine how he looks doing it, how it would feel to be there with him... He reached under the covers to touch his now-so-sensitive cock... and gasped in horror, frozen on the spot. 

“BRIAN!” Roger screamed desperately. “BRIAN!”

The water stopped immediately and after several loud thuds, Brian appeared in the door, straight from the shower, only with a small towel around his hips.

“Yes? What’s happe-...” 

Brian’s eyes widened and he swallowed furiously, as he saw Roger, laid naked on the bed, needy and flushed, his cock standing proud and hard. Suddenly he felt a certain discomfort himself, and quickly adjusted the towel. 

“Brian!” Roger repeated desperately. “What the hell? It’s... it’s doing this!”

“Eh... oh? Is it?” 

“YES!”

Brian tried to breathe and look elsewhere, with varying degrees of success. 

“So...,” he bravely tried to manage the situation, “by that you mean... that... never happened before?”

Roger shook his head, his eyes wide and teary. “No! Never! Is it something you know? Something from Earth? Is it contagious?”

Oh, God, very much so.  
Brian would raise his hands in a soothing gesture, but he was too busy holding his towel.

“Roger, calm down. It’s normal, I swear.”

“No, it’s not!”

With a sigh, Brian wondered why for all the training in NASA they never prepared him for this situation.   
He looked a bit cautiously. “Roger... what exactly have you been thinking about when it... happened?”

“Nothing special, I guess,” Roger shrugged, “just listened to you in the shower.”

Brian hoped the heat in his face didn’t mean a blush, because he could’ve been comfortably set on fire by this point. His towel twitched. 

“A-... alright,” he mumbled weakly, “so you just... keep doing that and... you can try to touch it a bit?”

“I can’t touch it!”

“Why the hell not?”

“It’s too much!”

“You just-”

“I DON’T WANNA!”

Roger glared at him furiously.

“Alright,” Brian repeated, “in that case you can... think of something really unpleasant. I... I’ll take another shower.”  
And before Roger could say another word, he was gone.

 

Brian spent an ungodly amount of time in that shower, thinking how on Queen he could survive breakfast today. Luckily, he got rescued by a call from Miami, who asked him to get there as soon as possible. Roger, still hidden under the covers, decided to join them later.

“Only three of us today?” Brian asked surprised as he entered their cellar lair half-an-hour later and found Miami with John waiting for him Freddie-less.

“He’s working,” John explained shortly. “After the stuff with Prenter’s search and his colleague finding Roger in a cupboard, Freddie’s rather not pushing it. He said this might be the first time he got to work punctually several days in a row. Where’s Roger? I thought he had a day off.”

Brian nodded. “He has, just... he’ll come later. Hard morning.”

Luckily, none of the men asked for an explanation.

“Maybe it’s only good they’re not here,” Miami said suddenly, “with what I have to show you.”

Oh no, please, Brian prayed desperately, but to his relief, the hacker just turned his screen so they could see.

“I decoded the files we got from the museum,” he explained with a shy self-satisfied smile, “and I think I found something.”

Brian and John exchanged excited glances. “What is it?”

Miami sighed. “It’s about... DHA. You asked for it.”

The duo leaned in even closer. “Yes?” Brian whispered.

“It turns out, it had been synthetized by the Institute, five years after they established the system of controlled reproduction. It works as serotonin and dopamine release enhancer, improves your mood, but also...”

John frowned. “Also?”

“... also works as an anti-aphrodisiac. At least that’s what they say here. I found what it means and-”

“We know what it means!” John jumped up from the sofa and started pacing around the room. 

“- it means it supresses any need to get involved in the old ways of procreation,” Miami finished the sentence anyway. “Without DHA, one is supposed to have, apparently, some pull to engage in it. I assume...”

Brian groaned, covering his face. “Roger and Freddie stopped taking it...,” he mumbled. 

John sighed quietly, his body tense. “Have you noticed anything about Roger?”

“Ehm... one or two things?” Brian shuffled his feet in discomfort. “Maybe? What about Freddie?”

“He got... touchier,” John admitted. “But why? Why would the Institute even do that? It’s no accident.”

“It’s not,” Brian agreed. “But I suppose... if you want to control all the genes of the planet – the first step is to make sure no one’s having children behind your back.”

John looked positively disgusted. “We should give them a talk or something,” he suggested. “About what to expect.”

“With bees and birds?” Despite the joke, Brian wasn’t amused. “This can be a problem,” he added slowly, “a real problem. “

“It doesn’t have to be. You’re overthinking.”

“Am I? All that business with contacting Earth, RISUGI and Prenter... and now we have to deal with Freddie and Roger going through... what they’re going through?”

John didn’t answer, but his expression got thoughtful.

“Deaks?” Brian frowned suspiciously. “Whatever’s on your mind... no. You were the one to tell me I shouldn’t start anything with Roger – those arguments were and still are quite valid and apply to both of us.”

Miami watched the exchange as if it were a tennis match. “What’s going to happen with them?” he asked quietly, his voice filled with concern, “What’s this about?”

Before Brian could answer, the cellar door was yanked open and breathless Roger busted in, eyes wide in terror.

“Quick! You need to get out of here. Now!”

Brian jumped up. “What’s happening?”

“Prenter. Freddie just called, he heard it from Mary. The city guards are making a raid, all the streets, every house. They’re searching for you!”

“Impossible!” Miami got up as well. “Any such action would be in the system. We’d know about it!”

“Well we didn’t!” Roger exclaimed. “But it’s happening! You can’t stay in the cellar!”

“Do you have something in mind?” John asked matter-of-factly.

“I’ll tell you in the car.”

 

They all followed Roger out of the house and in his car, quickly and carefully, though no soldiers got into this part of city yet. Brian and John put on their hats and wide scarfs. Nothing unusual among people of Queen, though out of fashion, according to Freddie’s recent opinion.

“We need to get out of the city,” Roger said sharply as they got on the main street heading east, “to the Ridge Hill and into the mines.”

“I can’t make a blind zone to protect you from here,” Miami pointed out, “they’ll see you.”

“That’s why only you three go in,” Roger gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Once we’re out of here, I’ll give you the car to get there and stay in the city myself. When it’s over, with Freddie we’ll find some rope or whatever to get you out.”

“The mines!” John groaned. “Why is it always the mines!”

“DAMMIT!” Roger exclaimed and at the last moment he turned at the crossroad to the right. Several cars honked.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” John angrily massaged his head after its collision with the car’s window.

“There’s a road block,” Brian answered instead. “They must’ve make sure no one gets out of here during the raid. Do we go back then?”

Miami stared out of the window nervously. “It’s too far, we won’t get home in time. Look, they’re stopping cars now!”

Roger stepped on it. “Not in our direction. We’ll get out of here, I’ve got an idea.”

Brian was honestly glad the soldiers or police, or whatever those men were supposed to be, busied themselves with checking people’s cars and didn’t bother enforcing speed limits.  
Roger was cutting the turns, ignoring other drivers, getting several annoyed honks in the process, and though Brian knew nothing about the traffic rules here, he could safely say Roger broke at least half of them.

“What?” John gasped when he saw where they stopped. The proud inscription above the entrance of the two-floor white building said CAPITAL DENTAL CLINIC.

“This is where I work,” Roger explained. “When I’m not at the Institute. Come.”

Brian could think of at least twenty reasons why this was insane, but having no better idea himself, he followed Roger, John and Miami around the corner of the clinic and in.

The corridor was painted with menthol green, a universal colour of dentistry, it seems. 

“Doctor Taylor!” a nurse behind a reception desk smiled. “We didn’t expect you today!”

“An urgent case,” Roger replied briefly and let her help him in a white coat. “Thank you, Dom. Make sure nobody interrupts me.”

She shrugged. “I can try, but I’m afraid those soldiers will do it anyway. They’re searching the whole city for some murderers.”

Roger swallowed and tried not to look at his companions. “Do you think they come here?”

“They’re in our street, two houses from here now, so I guess...”

“Never mind,” Roger decided, “work must continue, and some murderers are not our business. Please, gentlemen,” he turned to the trio of wanted men behind him, “come in.” He pointed to the door behind nurse’s back. “My office.” 

Roger’s office turned out to be quite small, nearly entirely taken by the big dentist’s chair and all the other necessary equipment. In the opposite wall there were another door, made of glass, so one could enjoy the view on a dirty backyard with several big waste containers.

“She said they’re coming here,” John whispered nervously. “What do we do?”

Miami looked like a stranded fish, out of his lair and with no computer to hide behind. Brian just felt seconds from exploding about the ridiculousness of their situation, but still, he had no better idea. 

“I guess we just wait here a bit to catch-“

Suddenly, they heard voices from the corridor and loud stomps of heavy shoes.

“They’re here!” Roger gasped and his pale skin got ashen undertones. “Jim, Bri, with me, John, wait!”  
Without further ado, he grabbed Brian’s hand and dragged him on the backyard with Miami on their tails.

 

Meanwhile, Dom watched the soldiers approaching with a small frown.  
“How can I help you, gentlemen?”

The man in the lead gave her a crooked smile. “My name is Paul Prenter,” he said, and his tone suggested he repeated that many times already, “the Deputy Head of Security. This whole city is currently being searched for a group of dangerous criminals. Here,” he showed her a photo of Brian and John taken by cameras the day of their arrival, “does any of the men look familiar to you?”

Dom didn’t even look, too busy glaring at Prenter. “This is a dental clinic,” she protested, “why would any criminal come here!”

“How many people are currently in the object?” 

“Five doctors, seven nurses,” she replied immediately. “Around ten patients.”

“I want all the keys you have,” Prenter ordered, “no door will remain locked, no room unchecked.”

“Our doctors are working! You can’t bother them!”

“I’m sure they’ll survive the minute or two,” the man answered sweetly, “believe me, we have no intention of dragging this on. Who’s in there?”

“Doctor Taylor, but he can’t be disturbed.”

Prenter ignored her and headed to the door of the office.

“Sir! He’s got a patient, sir!”

“What the hell!” Roger exclaimed with annoyance when three soldiers with Prenter in the lead walked in.   
It looked just like a normal dentist’s office would, with a doctor wearing a plastic apron and a surgical mask over his face, and a patient on the chair. Green sterile cloth was thrown over the patient’s face to protect him from the sharp light of the dentist’s lamp. Only area of his mouth was left uncovered. 

The doctor just pulled some terrifying hook-like instrument out of the mouth and frowned.

“I didn’t want to be disturbed!” Roger’s voice sounded a bit muffled through the mask. “Some of us have a work to do, you know?”

“My name is Paul Prenter,” he repeated a bit wearily, “the Deputy Head of Security. This whole city is currently being searched for a group of dangerous criminals.”

“In here?”

“We’re searching everywhere,” Prenter assured him. “I hope you have no objections when we look around your office. You keep working so we don’t cause any delay.”  
Before Roger could even answer, soldiers slipped around him to look into the closets and on the backyard.

“Have you ever seen these men?” Prenter continued and took out his photos again.

“Never in my life.”

“And your patient-”

“Hey!” Roger slapped Prenter’s hand when he tried to pull the cloth. “This is all sterile area! Either go wash or stop grabbing. Besides,” he continued more calmly, “this guy’s sedated as hell, it was the only way, he’d fly right through the ceiling otherwise. You should see his root canal. I’ve got some x-rays, it’s disgusting, inflammation, pus and debris everywhere. Want me to show you?”

“No, thanks,” Prenter refused, “and please, continue your work.”

For a short moment, the two men just stared at each other.

“Continue,” Prenter repeated.

“Eh, yes, right.”

With a small hesitation, Roger took a drill and leaned over the patient’s mouth. Soon, the smell of a drilled enamel filled the air.

Soldiers returned from the backyard. “Nothing, sir. Just trash. We poked in it, but nothing.”

Prenter nodded. “That’ll be all. Have a nice day, doctor Taylor.” 

 

Roger waited several more minutes, before he whispered. “They’re gone.”

John tore the cloth from his face immediately, and if looks could kill, Roger would be dead on the ground in an instant.

“YOU drilled my TOOTH!” he growled and spit a bit of blood in a basin by his side. “YOU DRILLED MY TOOTH!”

Roger made a tiny step back. “I’m so sorry, Deaky, but he was watching and I-”

“You could have done literally anything else! Too bad I wasn’t so heavily sedated, huh?”

“I just saved your life, you idiot!”

“By drilling my tooth!”

Roger escaped the storm on the backyard, and soon he returned with Brian and Miami. Both wore a resigned and weary expressions on their faces, dirty, and smelling of something terrible.

“Are they gone?” Brian asked quietly. “They poked into all the containers, but luckily just peeped into ours. It’s good you buried us so deep.”

“Yeah...,” Roger nodded. “I knew they wouldn’t be really keen to inspect the one with infectious waste.”

“WHAT!”

“It’s just a technical term!” Roger waved his hands in panicked defence. “You know, used tampons, bloodied cotton balls, needles... But I always cover the sharp edges, I swear!”

Brian pressed his lips tightly to avoid criticism. After all, potential blood poisoning sounded much more pleasant than whatever they could expect from Prenter’s hands.

“We’ll need to take a shower,” Miami stated, unimpressed.

“Yeah, poor you, need to take a shower,” John stated mockingly. “He drilled my tooth!”

Roger sighed. “So... stay in that chair, so I can give you some nice filling. And afterwards, don’t eat or drink in two hours, so it can harden properly. Any questions?”

John groaned and leaned back in the chair. “Roger?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck you.”

 

In the evening, they met in the cellar again. Brian and Miami had scrubbed themselves clean, Brian twice, and John was still holding a cheap complimentary toothbrush, grip so hard his knuckles went white. Small paper sticker “For Bravery” on his chest didn’t improve his opinion on that day either.

Freddie bust into the room like a storm. “Deaky!” His hair was dishevelled, and jacket buttoned unevenly. “Darling, are you alright?”

“We’re all good, Fred, thank you,” Roger answered dryly, while Freddie ignored him and imprisoned John in a bone crushing hug.

“We’re good,” John assured him quietly and wrapped his arms around Freddie as well, caressing his back. “What about you?”

“Worried sick, darling, what do you think?” Freddie loosened the embrace but didn’t let go. “Right after I called Rog that- oh, you got a sticker?”

“Roger drilled my tooth. My mouth hurts.”

“ROGER!”

“It’s alright,” John assured him quickly, “he saved our lives after all.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Roger mumbled.

“Besides,” John continued quietly and leaned closer to Freddie’s ear, “at home... you can kiss it better.” With a great deal of self-satisfaction John watched the faint blush on Freddie’s cheeks.

Brian had none of it and interrupted the moment. “Who even is Prenter?” he asked. “Why is he suddenly everywhere?”

Miami was the one to answer. “I looked him up. He used to be a member of Reid’s personal team and got transferred to Security after our latest fiasco. He’s not to be messed with, Reid has only the best of the best. I suppose Prenter already figured we have access to their system, there wasn’t even a trace about this raid on the RISUGI servers. I’m afraid we’ll miss the times we had only Foster to worry about.”

Freddie sighed. “I miss them already. First in the museum, now in Roger’s office... he’s getting too close. We need to do something.”

“There is of course-”

“No!” Roger jumped in and interrupted him. “There is nothing we can do.”

Brian frowned. “What did you want to say, Miami?”

“There is nothing what can be done,” Roger repeated and looked at Freddie, who nodded.

“Nothing we can do,” Miami agreed as well now. “The best way is to lay low for a while. With no results, hopefully, Reid calls Prenter off and we can breathe again.”

“What was it you wanted to say?” John asked quietly.

“Nothing important, darling,” Freddie tugged on his sleeve, “good night, everyone. We all need to rest after today.”

Roger got up as well. “Are you coming, Bri? I’m starving. And as I’m actually the hero of the day...”

Brian nodded absentmindedly. “Alright. Good night, Miami.”

“Good night, boys.”


	24. John Deacon’s Master Stroke

It was a time of day when people usually headed to bed. Brian and Roger were sitting by the kitchen table under a feeble light of the table lamp, leaning over a complicated scheme Brian had just drawn.

“... and out of here. And that’s how children are born on Earth,” Brian finished the lecture, quite proud of himself.

Roger blinked silently. He stared at the diagram for a moment, then at Brian, then back down.

“You... your wife did...,” he peeped, picked up a pen and twirled it in his hand, “...all that?”

Brian was a bit confused but nodded. “That’s how Jimmy came to be, yes.”

The pen hit the table. “That’s insane! How could you do that to her!”

“Rog, Roger, listen-”

“And you did that!” Roger pointed to the other end of the drawing.

Brian sighed. “Yes, yes, I did, Roger, calm down. That’s not important right now. And it’s not anything I did to her, we did it together. We both wanted it.”

“And you’re saying... that Institute invented DHA to prevent people from wanting to do this.” Roger frowned and looked away to avoid Brian’s stare. Still, he felt those hazel eyes on him, and hugged his middle, trying to escape suddenly raising unrest. 

“Exactly,” Brian nodded and watched Roger cautiously. He didn’t miss the gesture. “And now you and Freddie got off it, which means... certain changes.”

Roger looked back at the paper and tilted his head. “I still don’t want it,” he mumbled. “It sounds disgusting, truth to be told.” His chair creaked as he got up. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to bed now.”

“Are you still going to think about me in the shower?” Brian asked, effectively stopping Roger in his tracks.

Roger turned around in the bedroom door, his face tense. “Enough, Brian... please.”

“I can stop talking,” Brian said quietly, “but... I can’t stop what’s going on with you. I know how it feels, believe me. There are thoughts crashing in your head, you try to get rid of them, but they won’t let go. All the need you feel, all the touches, all the sensations... we can talk about what happened this morning.”

“That happened because of this?” Roger’s cheeks got a tint of red.

“Yes, it did.”

“But you aren’t a woman!”

Brian chuckled. “True. That doesn’t matter, Rog.” He considered coming closer, so they wouldn’t speak across the whole room, but Roger seemed startled enough. The last thing he wanted was to crowd him, so he stayed patiently seated.

Roger was thinking, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Brian smiled faintly at the sight. Was it too bad to hope that... no, no, no. Bad Brian. He sighed. Roger’s innocence was simply adorable and endearing to him, but it also made him feel sleazy just to think about Roger that way.

“Men can’t have babies on Earth, can they?” Roger’s question interrupted his chain of thoughts.

“They can’t,” Brian confirmed.

“Then why would you do it with a man, what’s the point?”

There were many answers to that, but Brian settled for the simplest one. “People do it not only to have children, but... when you want to... it feels really good.” 

Roger seemed doubtful about that. “What you said about... the way it’s done...”

“Yes?”

“I understand when it’s a man and a woman, but with two men, how do you...,” Roger’s voice slowly trailed away as he started to realize the correct answer. He made a face. “... in THERE?”

Brian bravely fought against the overwhelming urge to laugh, while Roger stared at him wide-eyed. Bewildered, freaked out, disgusted... those were just three of the many emotions his face showed.

“And you DID THAT?” Roger squeaked incredulously and pressed his back against a wall.

“I did that,” Brian admitted, deciding honesty was the best option here, “and had it done to me. Roger-”

That didn’t calm the blond down at all. “Don’t! You try something and I smack your brains out, I swear!” 

“I’m not going to do anything!” 

“But you’d want to!”

Brian swallowed. “Well, yes, but-”

“Shove off!” Perhaps honesty wasn’t the best option here after all.

“ROGER!” Brian got up firmly, trying to regain control over the situation. “I would never do anything you wouldn’t want me to. I would never hurt you, understand? Never.”

Finally, that seemed to get the message across. Roger still seemed startled and freaked out, but at least he wasn’t screaming anymore.  
There was a long silence between them, with thousands of thoughts running through Roger’s head. Brian waited patiently.

“It just feels so... weird,” Roger whispered and looked at the floor, as if his stare could burn a hole in it, “different. It’s almost as if I’m a different person than I was before. It’s not just... that morning thing... but everything, the way I think, the way I look at myself and others even... it’s like I’m not even myself anymore. Or am I myself now and my whole life I’ve just... been something else?”

“You’ve been yourself before as well as you’re now,” Brian assured him calmly, as if he were trying to catch a runaway kitten. Slowly, steady, no rush...

“But I’ve been good that way!” Roger sniffled. “It was right, it felt right, this is a mess!”

Sounds about right, Brian thought. His stomach clenched when he realized, were he on Earth, he’d be having the same talk with Jimmy. Instead, he happened to be here, on a foreign planet, explaining sex to a confused adult man who cold turkey quit a suppressant. A man who was also, by chance, his friend, flatmate, crush and a long-term shower fantasy. Just perfect.

“I understand,” Brian nodded patiently, “it’s normal. You’ll get used to this, I swear.”

“I don’t want to get used to this!” Roger retorted, his fighting mode ready to go once again. “If it weren’t for the bet with Freddie, I’d go straight for the pills. I’ve got no need for this, I don’t want this!”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Not even a little?”

His direct stare made Roger squirm a bit.

“Maybe... but just a little.”

“A little or a lot?”

“Stop it!” Roger screamed and covered his ears, his eyes firmly closed. “Stop it, just shut up, stop making me think about this!”

Brian got up, walked across the room to Roger and touched his shoulder. He felt the skin warm and shivering. He stroked it softly, wishing he could just pull him into a firm hug, but that would be way over the limits, he got that. I could wait, he thought, and he had to admit, quite guiltily, that the anticipation excited him even more than if the blond angel just fell into his arms. He... wouldn’t be opposed to that as well though. Roger slowly relaxed under the touch until he suddenly snapped his eyes open and jerked away as if the hand burned.

“STOP it!” 

“I’m sorry...,” Brian made a step back, his hands in the air. “I’m sorry.”

It broke his heart a bit to see Roger suddenly so distant again, after nearly two weeks of looks, touches, caresses and not to mention sharing a bed. He kind of understood though. Before, Roger acted upon his subconscious feelings, not really thinking about it. But knowing what caused all this, the bigger picture, realizing that what he used to feel or not feel had been forced upon him... 

Roger was very obviously barely keeping it together. Unable to stand still, he walked over to the bedroom, grabbed his covers from the bed and flung them onto the sofa.

“I’m sleeping here, from now on,” he announced sharply. “You keep the bed.”

Brian’s heart ached. “Rog-“

“This is my place,” Roger reminded and looked away. “My rules. You – bed. Now. Good night, Brian.”

 

***

 

It was John’s turn to do the dishes, though Freddie offered to do it because “you’ve been injured today, darling”. During the dinner, John didn’t dare to turn the conversation to the topic which needed to be discussed, so after a quick summary of the day’s events, he just let Freddie talk about museum news and that new melody he’d been thinking about. 

“Deaky, darling? Are you alright there?” Freddie’s voice sounded from the living room.

“Just a minute!”

Really, he spent in the kitchen way longer than it’d take to wash two plates and some cutlery.  
Can he just... tell Freddie? But what? And how? John gave one of the plates an angry stare as if it had been personally responsible. This conversation could seriously backfire and... John wanted it to go well. No, he needed it to go well.  
Freddie was handsome and clever and funny and most importantly - here, but somehow... John felt it went deeper than that. He couldn’t imagine Freddie ever not being with him. He became a part of his life, blend under his skin and crept into his heart, and it was just so easy...  
This, however, John frowned into the sink, this wasn’t easy. He needed a battle plan.

 

Freddie was sitting on a sofa, his feet up, doodling into his notebook. His dark eyes pierced John the very moment he suspiciously casually walked into the living room.

“Are you alright, darling?” he frowned. “You look like you threw up in there. You didn’t, did you?”

John chuckled. “No, not really. Just a little contemplative moment.”

Freddie put his feet on the ground so John could join him. “Let’s put aside the horror for a while, dear,” he smiled warmly, “at least for two hours a day we’re allowed to have fun, even as dangerous criminals. Maybe we could try that Scrabble thing once again.”

“Because that last experience wasn’t scarring enough,” John joked. In Freddie’s presence, somehow, the nervousness he had felt in the kitchen, disappeared. He leaned back into the soft cushions. “Can I ask you something, Freddie?”

“Of course, darling.”

“Have you ever... regretted starting this?”

Freddie raised an eyebrow and brushed a stray strand of hair from his face. “Starting what?”

John sighed. “The rebellion. Saving me, Brian... and Miami before that. You know, without it, you’d be safe. From Prenter, from the Institute, from everything. You could just live your life. Would you go back, if you could?”

“You ask me if I regret saving you?” Freddie chuckled and ruffled John’s hair. “Really, darling?”

John tried to catch Freddie’s hand and get it away from him and after a small fight he succeeded. “Freddie! Freddie! I’m trying to be serious here. I’m actually asking.”

“Alright then...,” Freddie took some time to formulate an answer, “well... I’m not going to lie, it would be great to be safe. To wake up every morning to certainty we’ll see the evening together – and the day after that as well. But we know why we’re doing this, don’t we? So we can live the way we want to, without RISUGI controlling our every move. And the fact that it brought me you... I could never regret that. I want to be with you. The whole day, every day – and still won’t be enough.”

John exhaled shakily. Freddie’s long, focused gaze made him shiver. “I want to be with you too, Freddie,” he whispered, “whatever happens.”  
He caressed Freddie’s cheek, and could feel his breath quicken.

“Deaky, I-”

“I know,” John smiled and ran his fingers through the raven hair. Freddie just sat there, frozen, staring at John like a cobra at its charmer. “Tell me, Freddie... does this feel good? Do you like me touching you?”

It took some time before Freddie finally nodded and whispered: “I like you touching me... more than I thought. More than before.”

John barely contained his excitement, he just hoped the sudden light in his eyes wouldn’t scare Freddie off.

“Do you think you want to kiss me?” he asked carefully and couldn’t help the soft blush creeping up on his face. Sure, in this situation he was the one knowing what was going on but-

John gasped when Freddie suddenly pressed his lips on his. It was a soft, almost chaste touch, but his heart fluttered, and all the blood rushed into his head. He gently pulled Freddie closer, feeling the warm fabric of his shirt and hearing the soft mewling sounds. It tasted sweet, better than John ever thought possible. It tasted like Freddie, the best it could be.

“Deaky...,” Freddie looked at him a little unsure, not knowing what to do now when they parted.

John choked on a gasp, a bit unprepared to deal with the wave of emotions the kiss brought him. How to proceed and not overdo it? He knew he wouldn’t do anything Freddie wasn’t completely ready for. 

Almira ruled the sky for some time already, and John realized it must be well after midnight. If they even call it a midnight here. He watched a small ray of red sunlight getting into the room through the draperies, until Freddie’s touch brought him back.

With terror, John realized the other man had tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry... I thought you wanted... this,” Freddie whispered and drew away a bit. “I’m sorry, I’ll never do that again.”

“No!” John nearly exclaimed, realizing how Freddie interpreted his silence. “No, Freddie...,” he cupped his cheek and caressed it, “... I liked it, Freddie. I really liked it.”

Freddie bit his lip. “I really liked it too,” he muttered. John’s assurance calmed him down, but the tears fell from his eyes anyway. “Deaky...”

“Come here,” John moved several cushions so Freddie could make himself comfortable on his lap, and then hugged him tightly. “It’s alright, Freddie,” John whispered, his face buried in the silk of Freddie’s hair. “It’s alright. What about we have a shower and then cuddle in bed together?”

Freddie lit up and smiled happily. “I’d like that.”

 

The morning light of Alba was slowly embracing the world, climbing over the buildings and flooding the streets like a golden syrup. 

“Deaky, darling? Deaky! Deaky!”

John was dreaming, and only reluctantly listened to the agitated whisper. He was in bed with Freddie being his little spoon, he was warm, sleepy and happy. Why did he have to wake up?

“Deaky!” 

This sounded little more urgent than before, and John snapped his eyes open wide. “Freddie!” he gasped. “What’s going on?”

Freddie seemed restless and... blushing.  
John frowned. He was still holding Freddie in a tight embrace from behind, hugging him, with his right hand firmly gripping... oh, no... something he honestly didn’t expect to be that big or that hard. 

“Will you ever learn to sleep in pyjamas, Freddie?” John sighed and squeezed a bit, getting a whimper out of him.

“I was hot and ah! Deaky!” Freddie’s voice got at least an octave higher. John still didn’t let go. This whole situation got him quite turned on, despite its awkward undertones. Were he Brian, he might just back down to overthink this, but he very clearly was not. After many long months of abstinence, he found himself in bed with the handsomest man he’d seen, holding said man’s rock-hard pride in his hand. John Deacon considered himself a simple man, and he recognized a moment not good for getting philosophical about principles of morality. It never was, especially with two aroused cocks in the game.

Still, he cautiously watched Freddie’s face as he ran his fingers over Freddie’s hardness from the base to the tip and back. How many inches even is that, he wondered... How would that feel inside... John gasped as a wave of shivers ran down his spine at the thought.

“Do you want me to go on?” he asked silently. Please, say yes, please, say yes, please, say yes!

“If you do,” Freddie peeped nervously, “what’s going to happen?”

John leaned closer to him, so close he could whisper in his ear: “If I do... I’ll make you feel so good we reach for the stars together.”

Freddie turned around to face John a bit more and smiled. “Deaky, darling... you don’t need to do the...thing... for me to feel good with you, but... if you want to do it...?”

“I do,” John blurted out quickly, “I do, I really do.” With worry, he watched how Freddie’s face still seemed a bit unsure. “But if you don’t feel like it, Freddie, I won’t be disappointed or anything, I swear-”

“I want you to do it,” Freddie interrupted him quietly and ran his hand through the brown hair, “just... could you kiss me first?”

John obliged happily and when their lips parted, he smiled and ran his hands softly all over Freddie’s chest and stomach, caressing playfully. Freddie’s breath hitched.

“Tell me if anything feels wrong,” John whispered.

He was determined to make this good for Freddie, and to give him an opportunity to back off, so he took his sweet time with endless teasing. 

“That’s it...,” he cooed, as he started at the collarbone, went down the chest and stomach, and out along Freddie’s inner thighs. He felt the sensitive skin shiver. “You’re so beautiful, love,” John mumbled, “so, so beautiful.”

“So are you, darling, and ah, please, touch me more,” Freddie breathed out, his heart beating so rapidly John could feel the pulse on the delicate skin of his inner thighs, caressing them before sliding on the balls, fondling softly. Freddie whimpered.

John let go of him for a short moment just to dip his hand in the glass of alga extract on his nightstand. As a drink this slimy substance sucked, but it made a decent lube. Were the circumstances different, John would add way more into the action, kissing, nibbling, licking and teasing, but he couldn’t risk Freddie would find any of that repulsive. No, he’d make this quick, direct and effective, plenty of time to experiment later.

Freddie was breathing heavily now, flushed, restless, hot, and also confused, but he trusted John to walk him through this for the sweet ending promised. He almost jumped up when John touched his cock again and started stroking it, slowly first, creating a steady rhythm while the other hand teased all the area around. 

“John,” Freddie whimpered, his voice high and breathy, “don’t stop, John, please.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” John assured him with a grin, pressed a soft kiss on Freddie’s cheek and picked up a pace.

Freddie swallowed a moan, gasping. His body was tense and tight like a string.

“Relax, love,” John smiled comfortingly, his eyes loving and calm, so unlike the firm, mercilessly steady work of his wrist and fingers. “Relax and feel it. Just breathe through it, let me hear all the sounds you can make. I want to hear you, love. It’s alright, I’m here.”

John was gradually getting faster, which slowly but surely turned Freddie into a puddle of heat, gasps and moans.

The way he gave himself to him, just like that, so sweet, so trusting, so needy, John couldn’t deny being turned on beyond belief, ignoring his own painfully hard cock or the excitement stirring the heat in him. He was transfixed on the task of making Freddie come.

“You’ve been thinking about me before, haven’t you?” John’s voice sounded low with arousal. “Tell me.”

“Y-Yes,” Freddie gasped and wailed when a finger circled his tip. “John!”

“That’s good,” John praised him and stole a long, deep kiss. Freddie just let him in obediently, though he struggled to last so long without breath.

He seemed to struggle in general, his hips thrusting up desperately to meet John’s hand, whole body sweaty and shaking. And it took few more strokes from John before Freddie suddenly froze in a soundless scream, coming hard in helpless ecstasy.

With a satisfied smile John walked him through it until Freddie collapsed in a whimpering mess by his side.

He waited patiently until the bliss wore off a bit, then he touched Freddie’s cheek to get his attention.

“Are you alright?”

Freddie took his time with an answer. “Deaky?” he asked quietly, a vulnerable gleam in his eyes.

“Yes, love?”

“This... isn’t the only time we do this, right?”

John chuckled. “It’s not, unless you want it to be.”

Freddie snuggled a bit closer to him. “No,” he mumbled against John’s clavicle, “I want to do this again.” Even from this position, John could feel his smile. “I want to do it plenty of times.”

John couldn’t help but laugh happily. “In that case... I’ll make sure we will,” he promised.


	25. The Prophet

New morning finally came with soft touches of yellow sunlight. Brian was already waiting for it, sitting on Roger’s bed uptight and still. His face was ashen and shadows under his eyes dark and sunken. 

He didn’t sleep. 

Truth to be told, he tried to curl under the covers, but without the warm body by his side he felt alone and abandoned. What’s more, every time he managed to drowse, a promise of nightmares waiting to take the scene punched him awake, and he sat up in fear, gasping for breath.  
He felt just about to burst in tears. But he wouldn’t, no. He knew Roger would be concerned, he’d pity him, perhaps he’d even offer to share the bed again – but against his will, despite his discomfort, and Brian wouldn’t have that. No, that won’t do. He managed alone before, he can do it again. Brian tried to explain the situation to his own mind, but some mocking voice assured him there was a hell ahead, and no way to escape it. The room seemed grey and unwelcoming. Brian shivered. 

Roger walked into the room. “Good morning, Brian.”

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, of course, you?”

“Good, thank you.”

“Good...”

Brian’s eyes were fixated on the ground when Roger walked across the bedroom to take clothes and go change to the bathroom.  
What have I done..., Brian thought desperately, and hid his face in his hands. But it was the right thing to tell him. He deserved to know everything. 

“I’m off to work,” Roger announced fifteen minutes later, popping into the bedroom fully washed and dressed, finding Brian in the exact same position as he left him.

“So early?” was the reaction he got.

“Yeah...,” Roger shuffled his feet uncomfortably, “I have to get to the Institute first to hand down my adenosine pattern suggestions and then make it to the dental office on time.”

Brian finally tore his eyes from the floor and looked at him. “What about breakfast, do you want-”

“I’ll have something at work,” he explained hastily. “You know where the keys are, and eh... take care.”

“You too!” Brian called when the entrance door banged shut, and then looked back down on the floor. He felt wrong, tired and frustrated. So tired...

 

John’s breaths were erratic, coming out in short gasps as he was kneeling on the bed with Freddie between his legs, bouncing on his cock. I felt just the way John imagined, if not better. A bliss, a fantasy. Freddie himself was a marvel, aroused beyond words, following John’s lead without hesitation, his skin glowing with blush and sweat, dark eyes wide with excitement, determination, pure joy and... love. 

Electric jolts ran through John every time the cock inside him hit the spot, turning him into a desperate speechless mess.

“Oh, Freddie, Freddie,” he whined, “oh, so close, Freddie...” 

Only the greatest self-denial held John from coming. He must come before I do, he must come before I do... Unable to wait any longer, John reached behind to grab Freddie’s balls to fondle them and clenched his muscles to press the cock inside him even tighter.

Freddie wailed.

“Come for me, sweetie...,” John mumbled, “come on, come for me...”

By the time, the ex-virgin was through several orgasms already, he knew what to expect. And indeed, John’s voice and few more strokes was all Freddie needed to come beautifully, immediately followed by his lover.

They snuggled together, and when the haze of pleasure wore off a bit, John smiled.

“If I remember correctly, we wanted to make a breakfast.”

Freddie giggled. “That went well. Perhaps-”

A knock on a door interrupted him. Both men looked at each other.

“Stay in the bed,” Freddie whispered, slipped from under the covers, put on a robe and went to investigate.

“Who’s there?”

“Brian,” was the tired answer, “I need to talk to you.”

Freddie smiled widely and opened the door. “Please, come in, dear. Deaky, darling, it’s alright!”

John emerged from the bedroom wrapped in a blanket while Brian stepped in with a sigh and Freddie shut the door behind him.  
“Would you like something to drink, dear? You look terrible.”

“I know it’s still quite early,” Brian apologised quietly and nodded to Freddie’s question, “but I talked with Roger yesterday and he didn’t really take well all the-“ 

Suddenly, he stopped in the middle of the sentence when he took a more proper look at the couple. Even the air around screamed “sex”, Brian had enough experience to recognize it.  
“What the hell did you do?” Brian turned to John with quiet incredulousness.

John swallowed and wrapped the blanket closer. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Brian repeated, and glanced at Freddie, who seemed confused by the sudden change of atmosphere. “I can see your nothing,” he continued, took out a handkerchief and wiped a thin splatter of come from Freddie’s cheek. “What the hell do you think you’re doing.”

The temperature in the room got below freezing within seconds.

John frowned. “Something that’s none of your business, that’s what. Especially when you come like this, at this hour, banging on our door, and then act as if I’ve done something disgusting. We had sex, me and Freddie, is that what you want to hear?”

“It’s absolutely not what I want to hear,” Brian retorted. “Freddie... would you mind leaving us alone for a moment?”

Freddie exchanged glances with John, wisely decided it would be better to leave the two astronauts solve the issue one on one and retreated to the kitchen.

John stood firmly, stared at Brian and his look could kill. “So? What?” 

Brian lowered his voice. “You’re asking me what? How could you do this, John?”

“Now it’s you who’s asking me how?”

“John!” Brian spread his arms in an urgent gesture. “How could you use him like that?”

“Use him?” John gasped. “Use him? What the hell do you think I’ve done here, you idiot!”

“So, you’re telling me that he knows everything that’s happening,” Brian retorted sarcastically, “you managed to explain everything, he took it in, he understood, and somehow he made a decision to sleep with you?”

“You really think I raped him or what?” John shrieked. “It was consensual, of course it was! Many times consensual, in fact.”

“Before you got your hand on his cock or after?”

“Brian fucking May!”

“The latter then.”

“You know what,” John growled and stepped closer, “some of us do not need a written approval from our lawyer, doctor, and grandmother to have sex. So, you can just stop being a dick about it, we both know you care shit about Freddie, you’re just peevish you didn’t get any.”

“Now spoken like a gentleman,” Brian snorted. “Do you realize Freddie only wanted it because he went cold turkey on DHA and you’re the one available? How can you take that for enough of a consent?” 

John sighed, trying to calm down, but his eyes gleamed with a supressed fury. “Just leave us alone, Brian. Get out of here. And you know – I’m glad we rushed into it, because at least something happened before this whole thing falls apart like a house of cards. Because of your stupid stunt with that guard we’ve got Prenter on us, and unless you’ve got some miracle in your sleeve, captain, we’re all gonna be dead, dead or swimming in tanks, in two months or less. Because of you! So, excuse my list of priorities and back off. You can just as well criticize me elsewhere, I don’t care, anywhere but here.”

Brian only managed to open his mouth and close it again before his voice cracked. “It... it wasn’t my fault.”

John opened the door. “Leave me alone.”

Brian pressed his lips together and stepped out, with no intention to either give an apology or to demand one from John. Before he came, he felt his insides heavy, filled with cold mud – now it was like he had none. He couldn’t even feel his own heart beating. Just completely... utterly empty.

John banged the door shut and wished he could do it several times. He let out a frustrated sigh and collapsed on the cushioned sofa.  
Fuck him, he mumbled angrily, just fuck him, fuck him, fuck him...

Freddie emerged from the kitchen, bringing John a glass of water. “So, darling...”

“You heard it?” John sounded resigned and fixated his stare on one of the small cushions. “What we talked about?”

“Yes, I did. Darling-” Freddie tried to wrap his arms around him, but John pushed him away.

“No, you... shouldn’t do this.” John hated himself in the moment, but he couldn’t but hear all Brian’s words in his head repeated and amplified. Did he really use Freddie? Did he deceive him? Force him? Trick him? “Freddie?”

“Yes?”

“Tell me... all those things I’ve done to you... if you could do them with anybody else, would you still want... me?”

Freddie looked confused. “Why would I want to do it with anybody else? I have you. And whatever we did... I loved it, darling, because we did them together. Please, now... can I touch you again now?”

John conceded, but the thoughtful look didn’t disappear from his face, even after Freddie started stroking his cheek.

“So, you’ve heard it’s because of DHA?”

“You mean, it wasn’t sooner because of DHA,” Freddie giggled, “I think I sorts of figured, dear. When you’re born the way I was, being attentive to your body a necessity.”

“Born the way you were?” John turned a bit to face him. “What do you mean?”

Freddie raised an eyebrow. “Darling...,” he sighed, “why do you think it is that Roger gets to be a dentist and even have a side job at the Institute, and I polish display cases of stuff no one ever wants to look at? Have you forgotten how it works here?”

John frowned. “What are you saying, Freddie?”

“It’s the good ones, the well-made ones, the healthy ones that get the chance for a better life,” Freddie replied casually, “I always find it quite funny, the way Roger complains about his eyes, because, honestly, that’s a negligible issue. I’m the cockup.”

“Freddie!” John half got up from his chair in sudden unease. “Are you saying you’re sick?”

“Just a little fragile, as Roger puts it,” Freddie chuckled, “and please, darling, calm down.”

“Calm down?”

“Yes, calm down,” Freddie said, and his voice sounded firmer and more like an order, so John obeyed. “It’s nothing, Deaky, darling, and it can be nothing for a long time. I’m just telling you so you could understand. I studied everything about Earth because I wanted to, I fight against RISUGI, because I think our cause to be right, I touch you, kiss you and sleep with you because I want to, and I do it with you,” he emphasized the last word now, “because I love you. And I do it all today, every day, because tomorrows are never certain – they never were.”

John looked in his eyes and after a short silence he whispered: “You said... you love me? How can you know?”

Freddie smiled and looked away a bit shyly. “I see your point, but from what I know... yes. Do you doubt it?”

“I don’t,” John’s face slowly lit up, he leaned forward and kissed Freddie’s cheek. “I love you too. Today and every day.”

 

After several hours of walking aimlessly around the city, Brian spent some time on a bench near the Childhood Centre, watching Roger’s sister, and then headed to Miami. The hacker was an undemanding company. He recognized Brian wanted to be most of all left alone, so he didn’t pry and let him camp on the sofa with a book while he put all his attention into some incomprehensible virtual problem.

There were two tiny voices in Brian’s head. One of them scolding him for talking to John like that, the other, being self-righteous, claimed he had been right after all, and refused the idea any mistake happened. 

Brian didn’t doubt he’d meet Roger in the evening, once he plucks up enough courage to face him again, so he was surprised when the blond entered Miami’s cellar in the late afternoon.

“Roger,” Brian sat up in the sofa, confused, “I... something happened?”

“I came home early,” Roger explain, “you weren’t there. So, I waited... and then I talked to Freddie... and he told me I’d probably find you here.”

Miami let the two have their moment, trying to be even more invisible than usual, which was easy, as the duo had eyes for nothing else than each other.

“Yes, I... needed some time alone. To think.”

Roger nodded. “I was thinking about it all as well... we should talk. Really talk.”

Brian’s heart fluttered in hope as he immediately jumped up, leaving his tiredness far behind.

“Of course. Here?”

“No... I want to show you something first.”

 

Brian’s curiosity only increased, when Roger led him to the car.

“Where are we going?” he asked and buckled up when Roger started, pulled out of the parking spot and into the traffic.

“Out of the city,” was the answer, “Ridge Hill.”

“Are you planning to fall in the mines again?” Brian joked and watched Roger’s handsome, focused face. God, he’d jump out of his skin if that happened.

Roger chuckled. “I hope not.”

 

The evening was swiftly approaching. At the time they parked at the base of the Ridge Hill it was a full-blown sunset, the strange hour when Alba and Almira shared the sky, yellow and red light entangling their rays, colouring the world with fire.

“Come on, we need to get to the top!” Roger encouraged Brian and headed uphill, carrying a folded blanket under his arm. Brian’s excitement only grew.  
They got there in less than twenty minutes, slightly panting. They could see all over the town and the desert on the other side.

“We need to wait,” Roger explained and carefully unfolded the blanket on the hot sand, “we’re quite early. Please, sit.”

“Early for what?” Brian inquired curiously and obediently nestled on the ground next to Roger.

“Wait and see.”  
He decided to settle for that answer with a soft smile and turned his eyes back on the horizon. This... this was the textbook definition of a perfect moment. The sky itself gave a magnificent spectacle. Rich hues of red blended with oranges, purples, crimsons as Alba slowly descended on its everyday journey. Suddenly, Brian was at peace. On a warm blanket, with Roger by his side and nature around them showing its miracles. Far from everything... far from anyone that could mean them harm... far from all the meaningless nerves and squabbles. 

Brian sighed, and Roger turned to him, soft smile playing on his lips. “What is it?”

“It’s just so perfect,” he mumbled worriedly, but his eyes betrayed the amazement he felt inside, “just too beautiful. I should enjoy it, but... somehow I feel this is going to end and whatever follows might be... worse.”

“Beautiful things are fragile,” Roger agreed contemplatively and chuckled, looking at the sky. “When I was little, I thought people lived on Alba and Almira, just like here on Queen. And each of them was shining with pure light, and that’s what we see. Yellow people,” he pointed to Alba, “and red,” he jerked his head the other way where the scarlet rays showed themselves timidly to claim the sky for the night.

“People of light...,” Brian smiled fondly, “I like that idea. What were they like?”

“Just like people here, I suppose,” Roger shrugged, “I only remember I had those huge wars in mind for them, as they thought their colour of light was better and more deserving to shine than the other.”

Brian sighed. “It would be an interesting experience for them to sit where we sit,” he contemplated, watching the sunset, “to see that both stars shine just fine... but together they are this magnificent.”

“Well, they wouldn’t get here, would they,” Roger reminded him, “stuck on their stars with no way out.”

“I’m from another planet,” Brian offered, “and it wasn’t impossible for the two of us to meet... perhaps others might get the same chance. I just wish...”

“Yes?”

He looked down. “My mission failed, Roger. Our duty, mine and John’s, was to contact Earth, pass our findings on, and perhaps even get back, but...”

“There is no way you can do that. We would know,” Roger reminded him.

“I know... I trust you enough to know that.” 

“So, it seems... the only way is to adopt our cause for yours. And one day,” Roger continued dreamily, “when we overthrow RISUGI, we can even build a transmitter for you. To send a message home.”

“That would take years at least.”

“Better late than never, don’t you think?” he grinned. “But now... the thing I wanted to show you. Look up. No, not at the Alba. Up.”

Brian frowned in a mild confusion but did what he was told. Paradoxically, sunrise and sunset on Queen, when the two stars switched places, were the darkest moments of the day, with both celestial bodies low on their respective horizons. Today seemed even darker than usual. The rays of light from Alba and Almira coloured the sky around them, true, but as you went further from them and looked straight up, you found the sky darker and darker, to the point of thin black zone where no light could reach. Brian was staring straight at it in fascination. 

A small taste of night, here, on the planet of an eternal day. And when he squinted his eyes, he could...

“There are stars!” he whispered in disbelief and quickly turned to Roger. “There are stars!”

“I know,” the blond dentist grinned fondly. “It’s happening this time of year, just for a week or so. There’s an uneven orbit or axis or something like that. I don’t know, you could explain it better, I guess. I just thought...,” he looked a bit sheepishly, “... thought you might like to see it.”

Brian’s face was shining with an excitement and adoration so palpable he could easily join the sky as a third sun. But he was watching Roger, not the astronomical phenomenon.  
Roger squirmed under that look. “Do the stars look the same from Earth?” he inquired and looked up. “These small shiny dots?”

“Yes, they do,” Brian nodded, “just most of the time more prominent as the night takes all of the sky.”

“We call them “Prophet”, that main bunch of stars over there,” Roger pointed, “see? When you connect them together, they make a silhouette of a man.” He shifted himself on the blanket closer to Brian so he could show him better. “Over there – there’s the head, the torso, two legs, he’s standing wide with his feet apart, and above his head, there’s an arm raised in a fist.”

Brian was charmed. “I can see it,” he whispered, “the Prophet... What does he preach about?”

Roger chuckled. “No idea. Someone came with that name a long time ago. Maybe even before the Catastrophe, I’m not sure. Usually there’s a star or two missing,” he admitted, “we’re lucky to see him like this. They say if the whole Prophet is seen, it’s a warning against massive changes ahead.”

“That’s what we want, isn’t it? A change?” 

“It was never presented as a particularly good thing, but yeah...,” Roger nodded, “that’s what we want.”

Brian was staring at the constellation in deep thought, his face a picture of warmth and serenity. Even the troubled wrinkle from his forehead seemed to disappear. He looked at the same stars generations before him admired... and generations after him will. Not eternal, but for the glimpse that is a human life... yes. Lasting, calm, unreachable, unchanging, undying. He couldn’t get enough. This took some time, until Almira rose from the horizon and flooded the sky with its scarlet touch. The night or the Prophet no longer there, but the two little men on the blanket sat still.

Brian closed his eyes. “It’s so quiet...,” he mumbled, “like a quiet before a storm. You know the moment when everyone takes a deep breath seconds before a hell breaks loose. Maybe your Prophet speaks the truth.”

“A hell breaks loose...,” Roger repeated and squirmed uncomfortably. “Because of us? Brian?”

“Yes?”

“I just want you to know...,” he searched for words with some difficulty, “whatever happens... I’d never want to see you hurt. Were it on me, you’d be the happiest man alive, everything you could ever desire in your hands.”

Brian turned to him, his eyes wide in surprise. “Roger... it is on you, you know. I think I made no secret with that.” His heart was pounding in his chest.

“It’s not on me,” Roger shook his head, “or perhaps... not just on me.”

“I can take the danger,” Brian whispered, “I can take RISUGI, I can take Prenter, I can take revolution, this whole goddamn circus, frankly, I can take it, and I’d still be happy if you... you...”

“I...,” Roger sighed, “I...”

Brian smiled and reached to caress his cheek. So, so close... 

“Roger...”

“No!” Roger slapped the hand away and pulled back so quickly Brian froze in utter confusion.

“I- I’m so so sorry,” he stuttered, “I thought-”

Roger jumped up on his feet and turned away, arms folded on his chest in a defensive gesture. 

“No...,” he repeated, and his voice sounded cracked, “no, no, no, I can’t do it, I won’t do it!”

Brian got up as well. “Why not?” he urged him. “I know you’re scared, Roger, I understand, it’s a new thing, but believe me-”

“Leave me alone, Brian!”

“At least tell me why,” Brian insisted, done with these games for today. “I promise I won’t touch you again, I just... want to talk. You said you wanted to talk, remember? Freddie and Deaky-”

“Freddie and Deaky!” Roger burst out in hysterical giggle. “Freddie and Deaky! So you know!”

Brian nodded. “Yes, I know. Since this morning.”

“I saw them today,” Roger explained, “when searching for you. “I saw them, and they... they...,” he stuttered a bit, before blurting out: “They’re so happy and they look at each other with such... such... I can’t even describe it! As if they were a whole world for each other. I got to... care about you, Brian,” he admitted quietly,” so bloody much... so much you could easily be a world to me. But I can’t do this. Please, please, scream at me, shout at me, hit me and call me a coward... I can’t.”

Brian listened to the rant, stunned at what he was hearing. “Why, Roger?” he whispered. “I could never call you a coward, I just need to know... why.” 

Roger swallowed his tears. “Because if we have what they do and something happens to you, Brian... I don’t think I could bear it. I only imagine the possibility and my heart stops. The more we do together, the more... the more... And every time you touch me, I feel so... so much, more and more every time! I couldn’t have something like that and have it taken from me. I can’t do this.”

Brian wasn’t sure should he laugh or cry. The compromise sounded like an incredulous breathy giggle on a verge of hysteria. “So, you’re going to take it away by your own hand? That doesn’t make any sense!” Many times, he imagined Roger confessing his feelings, but honestly, this was something else.

“Better now than later!” Roger retorted. “And I can do it.”

“You can’t, Roger,” Brian insisted. “You’ll be miserable!”

“I’ve been miserable all my life,” Roger frowned, “that I can handle. The old stuff I can manage. And the new one... I’ve got a help for that. Freddie’s gonna get that jacket after all.”

“No!” Brian heard himself exclaim. “No, you can’t do that, no! Not again!”

“Why the hell not!” Roger screamed. “I want it back! I want myself back, and I don’t care what you think! You keep repeating this is about a choice and respect! I made my choice and I’m asking you to accept it.”

“No...,” Brian whined silently, but he made no attempt to stop Roger when he pulled several shots of DHA out of his pocket. 

He had come here with the intention, Brian thought, he knew he was going to do it... Everything... everything was ruined. Wrong. His mission a failure, his friendship with John, the best guy in the entire world, ruined, Roger... taken away. Useless, Brian finally admitted. I’m useless, as a captain, as a friend, as a lover. And let’s add a terrible husband and father into the mix, why not, he was that too.

Roger sighed softly when the needle pricked his skin and the drug flew in the blood. He sat down on the blanket once again in the well-known haze that always came after a shot. He welcomed it as an old friend.

“Roger?” Brian mumbled quietly and sat next to him. “Roger?”

“Hm? I’m... sorry. Really, I am.”

“No, I... can I have one?” 

On that, Roger opened his eyes in surprise. “What did you say?”

“Can I have one?” Brian repeated firmly. “Just... please. I need it.”

Roger didn’t say anything, only nodded and shifted the rest of the packed shots towards him. “Will you do it or you want me to...?”

“I will. You just rest.”

There was something strangely satisfying in the pain he caused himself when pricking through the skin. Several drops of blood flowed around the needle, clumsy and messy, but Brian managed.  
And in less than a minute, he was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I invite you to listen to The Prophet's Song after reading this chapter, it might contain a hint or two.


	26. People of the Earth

Next morning Brian woke up with a heavy head and a foul taste in his mouth. He got up to get himself a glass of water. There were no nightmares, surprisingly, and he would say he felt fine and refreshed, if it weren’t for... for... he couldn’t put his finger on it but... 

He kneaded his forehead with a sigh. Something was wrong. Different, and it worried him.

They ate breakfast together, side by side, and in silence. Brian tried to stare as little as possible, in worry he’d make Roger uncomfortable, but then he realized - For the first time since arrival on Queen, he didn’t really feel the need to stare. 

He could look at the blond and feel... nothing. No flutter in the stomach, no warm wave of fondness, no supressed inappropriate thoughts... he looked at Roger the same way he’d look at a nice potted plant. 

Brian felt a bile going up his throat. Frantically, he searched his memory for the feeling, trying to recall it back. He remembered everything, he must have had it but now he couldn’t, he couldn’t! It was somewhere in there, lurking, out of reach, and everything so cold, cold, cold...

Quickly, he stared down on his breakfast, trying to escape the sudden horror his own mind created. Was it even his own mind? Didn’t feel like it...

“What’s wrong?” Roger asked quietly over the table. “You got all green.”

“I don’t feel that well...,” Brian whispered and closed his eyes shut, covering them with his hands, “I can’t...”

“I know. Here,” Roger slid two white pills towards him. “If you really want to take it, you better do it regularly. You’ll feel better.”

“Aren’t the shots faster?”

“Yeah, do you...?”

“Yeah...”

Roger only nodded, got up from the table, and in a minute, he was back with the drug. Brian reached for it almost robotically and got himself not one, but two. 

He didn’t feel better though. If anything, he felt worse, nauseous, as if his own bloodstream tried to expel the drug along with everything else from the inside. The wave of intoxication, expected to bring a happy haze, just plainly annoyed him now, but it was stronger than free will, and the only option was to succumb. Brian closed his eyes wearily and let the stranger’s mind inside his own head flow on the sweet mist.

 

Miami was running out of things to do. That wouldn’t be such a problem by itself, he enjoyed lying back doing nothing just like anyone, but not when only work could help him ignore the couple happily cooing on his sofa. 

John nestled more comfortably with his head in Freddie’s lap, while the other man’s fingers played with his hair.

“Hush now,” Freddie reprimanded him and playfully tapped on John’s nose as if in punishment, “be good, darling.”

“I’m always,” John purred, and closed his eyes obediently to let his lover gently scratch his scalp.

Miami sighed and tried to think of something else when the door opened again. “Oh, good morning, guys!” he nearly exclaimed when Roger and Brian entered.

John immediately sat back up, nearly hitting Freddie in the chin, and looked at Brian rather anxiously. He wanted no more arguments concerning Freddie or their love life, but... but his captain also said nothing related to their yesterday’s conversation. Strange. John knew Brian, the man never let go of an unresolved issue.

“Good morning, Deaks,” Brian smiled and sat down with an unusual blithe lightness, “and good morning, Freddie. Miami.”

John pierced Roger with a questioning look, but the blond only turned his eyes away and took the remaining seat. Brian seemed relaxed and comfortable next to him, but somehow... not in the good way. Especially compared to previous weeks of touches, blushing and fidgeting, the new dynamic was impossible to miss.

Like a mannequin in a shop window, John thought, and his eyes narrowed with suspicion. Had he a radar for his friends’ troubles, the one labelled “Brian” would be screaming. But what... he couldn’t put his finger on it...

“So, we’re all here,” Miami started gratefully, “there are some updates I have. We all-“

“How are you?” John interrupted him, staring at Brian.

After a small pause, he got an answer: “Eh... good, of course, now let Miami talk.”

John hesitated. “If it’s... about the chat we had yesterday...”

“I’m fine,” Brian assured him, “and you’re fine? Are you? Fine. Conversations... happen. There’s nothing to... not be good about.” He sounded nervous and strained.

“Brian... are you sick or something? What happened?”

“Would you just let it rest?” Brian snapped unexpectedly. “For the love of God, I’m not asking anything of you, not a bloody damn thing – just shut the hell up!”

The whole room went silent, staring at him. 

Brian cleared his throat as if it were suddenly difficult to swallow and looked elsewhere. Nobody knew what to say.

“Brian...,” John asked softly. His tone remained a bit vague, but even that little was enough for Brian to hunch.

“I’m... sorry, Deaks, I don’t know what came over me,” he mumbled, blinking furiously. His hands were shaking, but the rest of the body stiffened, taut and rigid as a string.

John remembered the last time Brian had a panic attack. Years ago, but he remembered. Now, his captain started to fall apart once again, and John Richard Deacon be damned if he let that happen.

“Brian,” he said firmly, got up and headed straight to him, “come with me. Breathe, and come with me. We’ll go for a walk, what do you say?”

He said nothing but went completely pliant under the order. It was as if he just didn’t care anymore, he got up and followed wherever his friend led him.   
In fact, Brian tried his hardest not to cry, scream or let anything else show the turmoil he felt. There was just no capacity to resist John’s insistence. Did he look normal? Did he act normal? He hoped so, though he shouldn’t have snapped, that was a mistake. 

You need to calm down, Brian, breathe, you can handle this, you always do, do it as always... It was just... too much. Everything was too much and somehow, today, he found no escape from it.

John didn’t take Brian out, but only to the cellar’s corridor, where they could be alone. They sat down side by side on the ground, backs against the wall. None really cared if their clothes get dirty, in this moment all that mattered was the closeness they felt from each other.

For a long time, they stayed silent. Brian’s breathing calmed a bit.

Then John chuckled. “This feels kind of good, doesn’t it?” he noted. “To be honest, after all that time we spent together cramped in that ship... I thought I wouldn’t be found less than two meters from you, but life keeps surprising. Like now.”

“I wish we never got here,” Brian mumbled. “And I don’t mean never tried but... I wish we died in there. Up there. It would have been quick...”

“That depends,” John shrugged, keeping a light tone, “there are many ways how to die slowly in space. Sure, loss of pressure, a leakage, that would’ve been quick. If the oxygen recycling filter failed, well, not so fast, but easy on us. But imagine radiation, starvation or a broken waste dispenser... ugh. Two proud astronauts, on their way to discover new horizons... drowned in their own shit.”

Brian shot him a glare. “I’m serious, John.”

“So am I.” Their eyes met. “Brian, whatever happened... I’m your friend, you know that. And besides, I’m good at fixing stuff. Tell me, what are you thinking about?”

“You should go back to Freddie,” Brian replied quietly, “and relish in every moment. Don’t mind me, I mean it. Because all those things I said yesterday... they’re not true. I know it, Roger knows it, he even...”

John shook his head. “Freddie doesn’t need me now. You do. And I think we’ve both said some things we shouldn’t have. I never thought you were to blame for this situation. We’re in it together.” 

Brian hesitated. “We are, but... where are we, exactly? With Prenter on us we can’t do even the little we’ve been doing so far. Are we going to hide in Miami’s cellar for the next fifty years, having the same talk we have now over and over?”

“We managed to stay alive,” John said quietly, “and that counts. You don’t see it as much now, I know you for some time already, but you know me as well – so, trust me on this. We’ll have our moment. Until then... we’ve done enough.”

“You don’t have to do this, John.”

“Yes, I do.” John smiled lightly and stretched his legs. “You know... the evening we met, all those years ago – do you remember?”

Brian allowed himself a small chuckle. “The meeting? I do. The rest of the night... still nothing, I’m sorry.”

“I was a kid back then.”

“Far from that, Deaks.”

John shrugged. “I sure as hell felt like one. A little kid who was little handier than the rest and got himself into a greater world than he intended - and got lost. I filled the shoes I had been given eventually – thanks to you.”

“Now I’m not sure if you overestimate me or underestimate yourself. Probably both.”

“Do you want to know something? A secret?” John’s greyish eyes smiled. 

“A secret? How old are we, five?”

“So, do you?”

“Yes, Deaky, I want to know a secret.” Brian shook his head in amusement. “Tell me.”

“When we volunteered for this mission,” John looked from Brian and on his own nervously fidgeting fingers, “and made the final round of tests, Admiral Mack called me to his office.”

Brian sat up a bit, listening more carefully. “Yes?”

“I thought we’re all being summoned one by one, for a final interview or something. But... it was just me. He asked about you, what I thought of you as a captain. So, I told him there could be no better man for the job. And he said: I’m glad we share opinions, Deacon. He’ll take care of Queen. Your job is to keep him alive.” John looked up and his eyes met Brian’s once again. “It’s my job... But it’s also a promise I had made to myself long before Mack asked for it.”

Brian slowly exhaled, not sure how to process all the emotions flooding his head. Finally, he solved it with a chuckle. “So, that’s what you are, Deaks? Not an engineering officer, but an interplanetal babysitter?” 

He tried to get up, but John grabbed his arm to make him stay. Brian gasped and winced in pain, which made John’s eyes narrow with suspicion. He didn’t let go.

“Brian?” John asked calmly.

“... yes?”

“Roll up your sleeve.”

“No!” Brian tried to step back, but John held him firmly. “Let go!”

“Show me your arm, and I will.”

“No!”

“Show me!” He squeezed even harder. “Or I’ll just tackle you on the ground and have a look myself, I swear to God.” 

Brian growled. “Ugh, fine.” He yanked the sleeve up, revealing three tiny needle pricks. One didn’t have to be a genius to realize what caused them. John stared at the arm, motionless and lost for words, before Brian hid it from the sight. “So, happy?”

John stared at him coldly. “No.” And before Brian could say another word, a firm slap landed on his cheek.

“Ouch – Deaks, what the hell!”

“Yes, exactly, what the hell, Brian?” John snapped. “Why? Why? You know what this is.”

“Yes, I know! Damn well, I know. First hand!” Brian exclaimed. “Roger got back on it too, there’s no reason-”

“No reason? No reason what? I’ll show you a fucking reason, Brian bloody May! You’re better than giving up like this! That’s a reason!”

“I don’t care, John. Roger said no, that’s it. I know where I’m not welcome.”

“You’re an idiot, that’s what you are,” John commented. “For someone so clever... it’s almost fascinating. You’re not well, I understand. But this thing is making you even worse. It makes you sick. It makes Roger sick.”

Brian frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Only that you both look like the last two salads in a greengrocery right before the closing hour. He got out of it. You’ve just started. DHA won’t do well to any of you.”

“I’m not even asking where you got all this knowledge about chemicals.”

“You better not,” John nodded, “so? I promise, soon, everything will be just as it was.”

Brian chuckled. “No offence, Deaks, but even this is better than living under one roof with Roger knowing that he-”

“That he won’t love you back?” John raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding me? It’ll happen for you. I know it’ll happen for you.”

For a moment, both men went silent. Brian slowly relaxed. “You know,” he mumbled, “I just figured why we never slept together.”

John smiled patiently. “Why would that be? Because I’m always here while you insist on chasing your impossible loves?”

“Because you’re too good of a friend, Deaks.”

“I can live with that,” John shrugged with a soft, satisfied grin. “And come now, the others are waiting.”

 

Side by side they walked through the corridor and back to Miami’s cellar, when angry voices from inside made them stop in their tracks.  
John lay his hand the door handle and looked back at Brian. They could hear Miami clearly.

“- and now we just have to tell them!”

“Have to?” That was Roger. “HAVE TO? We CAN’T! You know damn well!”

“Calm down, Rog-”

“You shut up too, Fred! We talked about this, you know what’s in stake!”

“I’m not suggesting we should allow them to do it, dear, but we can’t lie about this either. I can’t do this any longer. I can’t!”

“You have to!”

Miami cleared his throat. “Do you really want to keep it as a secret forever? Sooner or later, Brian and Deaky find out and then-”

John couldn’t take it any longer and yanked the door open. A tense silence spread across the room like a wave.

“If we’re about to find out,” Brian said quietly, “just tell us now. What is this about?”

Freddie buried himself deeper into the sofa, as if he hoped he could disappear on the spot. 

In contrast, Roger stood proudly, his arms folded, and glared at Brian. “You know it’s rude to listen behind the door,” he challenged.

“I see, we’re the rude ones,” John nodded. “Lead by example. Be polite and answer. What’s this about.”

In the end, it was Miami who spoke. “It’s about-”

“Don’t!” Roger exclaimed.

“One more thing!” John exploded. “One more, Roger, and I break your jaw, I swear to God!”

“- about a transmitter,” Miami finished in a quiet, resigned tone. “There is a way for you to contact Earth.”

Brian’s eyes widened as he looked at John, who seemed equally stunned. Roger just huffed quietly and fell onto the sofa next to Freddie.

“What?” Brian exhaled. “A transmitter that can reach Earth? But... how?”

“Tell us everything,” John asked, and his face betrayed no emotions. Not yet.

Miami sighed and threw a glare at the two younger men. “About two weeks ago,” he started, “I went through a server RISUGI freshly added to their network. To store old data, I guess. Most of it was rubbish, but it contained a document cancelling demolition plans for an Odeon Tower. It’s a ruin, in the hills few kilometres behind the city... but according to the files, the transmitter in it could be functional. And strong enough to reach the Earth.”

Brian and John looked at each other, trying to swallow the information.

Finally, Brian found words: “But... why would there even be such thing?” he asked. “This planet has no space program.”

“It doesn’t,” Freddie said suddenly, “but shortly before RISUGI took over, government had been trying to contact Earth. But then the Institute had all these plans cancelled and you know the rest.”

“Then WHY!” John exploded. It was too much on him now. Way too much. “WHY didn’t you tell us immediately? For months we’re camping here with nothing to do and you just-”

“Hang on, darling, until two weeks ago even we didn’t know all this!”

“And that makes it all right? Why the hell, Freddie!”

Roger jumped up. “Because you can’t do it!” he exclaimed furiously. “YOU CAN’T!”

The air around stopped. John’s lips made a thin line, as he glanced at Brian. Just tell me and I’ll beat him to the ground, the stare said.

Brian looked a bit confused. “We can’t? We can and we will. Hell, Roger, we must! What is this? Why... I don’t understand.”

Roger turned away, choosing to talk into a wall instead, as if that made it somehow all better.

“You can’t contact Earth,” he mumbled. “I won’t allow it.”

“But... Rog, that’s what we all want, isn’t it?”

“It’s not!” Roger snapped and turned back to him, blue eyes fuming. “It’s what you want! We don’t! We maybe have the same enemy, but your goal... is far from ours. We want the best for Queen. We want to get rid of the Institute, so people can freely-”

“That’s what we want as well!” Brian insisted. “And that’s what we can achieve if we get help-”

“Help?” Roger chuckled. “Help from Earth? And what “help” would that be, hm? You know...,” he sighed, “... I went to Freddie’s museum, some time ago, and I borrowed a load of old books about Earth. I read all of them. If you know your own history, Brian, tell me – what happens when people arrive to a land where others already live? Answer me.”

“Well...,” Brian thought about it, “... they talk, they help each other, they-”

“It’s a bloodshed!” Roger exclaimed impatiently. “For the sake of everything, Brian May, can’t you see? All the native people of both Americas! African colonies! All three of your world wars! Biological weapons, diseases, and nuclear bombs! And more! People slaughtered, murdered, used, enslaved and wiped out from the existence. Dammit Brian, you spent two years in that shit and you still scream from your sleep. You two call Earth and before we even blink, all the soldiers get here and fight who takes a bigger piece of this place. Our planet.”

“That won’t happen,” Brian tried to remain calm, even though his very soul felt shaken by this new betrayal, “it just... won’t happen.”

“Because history never repeats itself?” Roger raised an eyebrow. “Please. I can see it on your face. You’re just thinking about it... and you know... this will happen. You told me companies on Earth start wars to get to new resources, rare-earth elements... and Queen has plenty of those, and more. Do you honestly think they wouldn’t take that chance?”

Brian shook his head. “You’re being ridiculous. These are... way too wild speculations.”

“Are they?”

“And what about your own shit, Roger?” Brian attacked. “On Queen? Why do you have RISUGI in the first place? This planet is dying, people are dying. No offence, but Earth is the only thing that can save you, even considering the risks of it.”

“Our system is good,” Roger retorted, “we’ll make improvements in the technology. We will last. And even if not... at least we die without RISUGI, and without Earth.”

“This is a whole planet you’re talking about!” Brian screamed, finally losing his nerve. “You can’t make decisions for the whole Queen!”

“And you can? Because you’re just such a genius, so better and cleverer than anyone else?”

“Very possibly!”

Roger grabbed a cup and flung it across the room. “You conceited, stuck-up cry-baby!” 

Brian managed to dodge. “You know what?” he spread his arms in frustration, anger pouring freely through his words. “I’m done with you! I don’t care about this shit. I don’t care if this whole planet goes down in flames one way or another! I have my job here, and I’m going to do it. You can’t stop us.”

He hesitated after the “us” and gave a side glance to John. Freddie, silent the whole time, biting his lips, looked up anxiously.

“Darling?” he peeped. “Please, we-“

“Us,” John interrupted him, looking at Brian with a nod. “I’m going with you. Roger is right, this can go very wrong, but if we do nothing... Queen will die, sooner or later.”

Freddie hunched on the sofa and stared at the floor, his eyes empty and teary.

“Queen will die, so you rather make it happen sooner?” Roger frowned. “Sooner and bloodier?”

“You can’t stop us. You said it yourself, our goals are different. And this is what we do.”

For a second it looked like Roger was about to throw another fit, but in the end, he just shrugged. “Be my guests, guys. I won’t stop you. But we won’t help you either. And if you go...,” here his voice shook a little, “... if you go... you don’t need to come back. You’re no longer welcome. Think carefully.”

If he hoped to get the balance back on his side, Roger miscalculated. 

Brian glared at him, nothing but ice and disinterest in his eyes. “From all the people I’ve ever met,” he gritted through his teeth, “you are the worst fucking one, Roger Taylor. I can’t fathom where I put my eyes before. You’ve been a little bitch since we’ve met, you made me kill for you, you broke my heart, and you’re a goddamn traitor and a liar! You know what? I’m done with you.”

Roger opened his mouth and closed it again when Brian just turned his back on him and walked out of the door.   
John stood like a frozen statue. He couldn’t just leave... and... never come back, but... He knew his duty and where it belonged. That’s what he trained for. Men like him left their loved ones, their families, their parents or children behind for duty.

So, he left Freddie behind, and followed Brian out. They had work to do.


	27. One by One

Brian and John lay on their stomachs, carefully hidden behind a small dune, and watched the abandoned building they had put so many hopes into. It took them almost a whole day and night to get out of the city and walk through the hills and dunes to the tower. They were tired, hungry, and each followed their own train of unhappy thoughts. Now, however, with their goal so close they managed to push everything aside and focus on the task. As always.

"In one thing they were right," Brian sighed, "this really is a ruin."

"It is...," John agreed and squinted his eyes, "... but all the installation on the outside seems fine to be used. Or repairable, at least."

Brian’s sharp stare studied the tower and its surroundings attentively. "It seems abandoned," he mumbled, "I don't understand why it hasn't been torn down already."

John shrugged. "It's in the middle of nowhere, ready to fall apart, it's cheaper to let it be, I suppose."

"It better work," Brian shifted uncomfortably when sand got under his shirt, “because if not...”

"We won't find that out from here,” John frowned. “So?"

Brian nodded. "Let 's go."

 

Quickly, they got up and ran from their hideout to the tower, around a broken, rusty fence, and through a half-disintegrated entrance door. Brian glanced around, but the cautiousness seemed pointless. They were alone.

Dry dust from the ceiling immediately filled their mouths and forced them to cough. Brian looked around. Everything seemed ready to crumble, and so old fashioned, even for Queen standards. The floor kept cracking under their steps. Plastering no longer held on the concrete walls and peeled down in layers, disclosing the electrics underneath. The whole Odeon tower had that pitiful aura of a place once lived in, yet now forsaken, left for the desert to take care of.

“There’s an operating room,” John pointed through one of the doors they passed, “look. This must be the main panel.” 

“It is!” Brian whispered excitedly and quickly approached it to check closely. The room itself wasn’t spacious, and most of the space had been taken by huge control desk with numerous monitors, keyboards, switches, buttons and dials. “Hmm...”

“What?” John whispered anxiously, peeping over his shoulder. “Can you work with this?”

“The last time I’ve seen anything similar was when they showed it as a historical curiosity at the Communication Course,” Brian mumbled, hazel eyes flicking over the board, “but if we get the power going, I should manage.”

“I’ll look for the central distributor,” John offered. “It’s usually somewhere in the lower levels, a basement, perhaps.”

“You do that. I’ll stay here and put together the message for coding.”

John disappeared to the corridor and Brian listened to the echo of his steps before turning back to the panel. If he remembered correctly, this should show the frequency and here you determine the desired wavelength to be converted... God, he’d never believe how much dust can exist at one place... Brian used his sleeve to polish two of the most important monitors. Here we go. Not perfect, but much better. He smiled, excited like a child, which was a feeling he didn’t have very often lately. If this works... and it will work... they can make this mission a success! After everything that stood against them, their hardship pays off... Brian closed his eyes. He never particularly dreamed about fame, but... they’ll be talked about, won’t they? All over the networks? Jimmy will see it. And he’ll understand. And since that moment, he’ll know his father not as an absent figure who abandoned him and his mum, but as a hero who brought Queen and Earth back together. Yes, oh, God, please, yes...

Sudden scream tore Brian back to the reality. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, so fast it beat.

“Deaky!” he exclaimed and jumped up to run - when a man in uniform blocked the door. He held a gun and pointed right between Brian’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” Prenter smiled cockily, “I’m good enough shot to kill you on the spot if I choose to.”

Brian just stared at him, frozen, while all the images he created just a second ago fell apart. No... not this, not now, no, no!

A sound of struggle and another angry shriek from the corridor snapped him back and he leaped at Prenter, ready to take him down. 

The gunshot banged so sharply few more pieces of ceiling fell, and Brian collapsed on to the ground, desperately clutching his arm. His wide white sleeve got coloured by the blood soaking between his fingers.

“Pathetic,” Prenter commented and stepped closer, “and Foster actually thought it would be difficult to catch you. Miserable little freaks!” On the last word he kicked Brian in the stomach, so hard the man curled on the ground in shock, heaving and gasping for air.

Silent tears of anger ran down his face, and the pain his arm caused him... Help... help, please, somebody... help...

“How...,” Brian mumbled through his clenched teeth once he could, “... how did you find us...”

“Oh, we didn’t,” Prenter chuckled. “You walked in here prettily by yourself, all we had to do was wait. Do you really think we added a new server to our network just by chance, a server that just happened to contain a file letting you know about this tower? Ever since I realized you monsters get data from our system... the thought process wasn’t so hard. Just in case you wonder – no, you’d never send anything from this transmitter. You got yourself caught...,” Prenter grinned, enjoying the situation beyond belief, “... completely for nothing. I can only imagine what that feels like.”

“Rot in hell,” Brian spat out. Stupid... so unbelievably stupid... Stupid to believe... stupid to hope... 

He could only gasp when Prenter kicked him again, this time aiming for the face. With a disgusting crack, Brian’s nose broke, and a fresh blood filled his mouth.

 

The fifth floor of the Institute’s main building was on the highest level of security. Guards had been doubled and heavily armed, windows darkened, and doors locked. Except for few privileged ones no one got in, and no one got out. 

John squirmed desperately in the heavy chair he'd been tied to. The room was small, and he could almost feel the walls getting closer. He talked. And talked and talked and talked and for the love of God he couldn't stop. They've given him something, a drug of sorts, he didn't know. All he knew was that his brain ran on a triple - no, a quintuple, decuple speed, and everything on his mind just galloped to his mouth before he could filter through a common sense. He had to, it forced him, it compelled him to talk talk talk talk... He couldn't stop, he realized that much. Cold sweat of exhaustion ran down his back. He tried so desperately to keep as much off topic as possible, that was the only thing he could do. He couldn't keep this up for long, he knew, too much! This was too much!

"...myself off topic, keep myself away from that,” he babbled tearily, stumbling over his own words, “won't say, won't say anything. Oh, Earth, I'll think of Earth, will help, will help, oh, mummy, mummy, my mummy was a lovely lady, she told me fairy tales every night, every evening, I was in bed going to sleep, and she made a cake, for breakfast every day and-" He heard himself getting out of control, too fast, too fast to even think, no way he could make up a lie, not this fast, not like that. He was flushed, feverish and terrified.

It went on for several hours, and John got himself on a brink of utter exhaustion. But he couldn’t stop...

Foster entered the room and a smug smile crossed his lips upon seeing his prisoner so helpless and under control. There was a new spring in his step, when he approached John’s interrogator. The man seemed to be only a little further from an utter collapse than John.

“How is it going here?” he asked loudly over John’s half-incoherent muttering.

The interrogator sighed deeply. “He talks, as you see. But nothing of importance. My head hurts.”

“Oh, poor you,” Foster made a face. “We’ll break him,” he added confidently, “he’ll tell us who helped them hide. Won’t you?” He turned to John and slapped him hard over his already bruised face. “Who was helping you?” 

John quickly looked elsewhere, still babbling. “ -and that’s Forster, Ray Foster, hate Ray Foster, found us in the desert, me and Brian, don’t like the desert, big, huge desert, lots of sand, solar panels, crashed our ship-“

Foster leaned even closer to him, asking firmly. It was impossible for John to ignore him. “You were in prison,” he reminded. “Go back to the moment, think about it.”

Tears got into John’s eyes, as he tried not to obey, but the overactive mind recalled the day. “-fell asleep, got something in our drink, grey walls, ugly place, Brian sleeping, I’m scared, no, no, Brian! Brian! Brian!” he screamed, but not even then relief came. “I wanted Brian to wake up, I like Brian, not like like, never slept with him, I think so, at least, we got drunk once together and woke up naked in his bed, I think he must be good in bed, I heard he must be good in bed, Freddie’s good in bed, he’s got a big long cock, I felt it inside me, and it hurt but so so so good-” John was shocked by his own words, stop! Stop! No! No!

“You got out,” Foster interrupted what he considered a nonsense. “How?”

John felt his control hanging on the last thread and he was desperate, horrified even. He laughed hysterically and, oh, it worked too. So he kept laughing, shrieking like a maniac until Foster slapped him again and gave a sharp command: “Speak.”

John started crying. “-cannot, I cannot, no, no, no, won’t make me, dear, darling, love, no, no, nobody, nobody, I have nobody, forbade us to come back-”

“Who?” Foster jumped for the sentence like a dog for a bone. “Who forbade you?”

No! No! No! Can’t, can’t!  
John bit his tongue. Not just to make it steady, oh no, he cracked it with his teeth, deep in the flesh. Hot blood flooded his mouth in a matter of seconds, gushing out over his lips and chin. He kept talking, of course he kept talking, spitting blood all around, and it hurt, God, it hurt so badly. But not even the greatest interrogator in the world could decipher the words mangled by the deformed, painful tongue and a blood all over.

Foster groaned in frustration. “That’s disgusting,” he straightened up, “somebody stop him! Now! Sickening freak.”

 

Brian lay strapped on a table, his face contorted in a grimace. His skin, already pale, got ashen and clammy. He had been screaming, yes... but not anymore. He just couldn’t anymore, he got beyond that. He had passed the threshold. 

Every time another electric shock ran through his body, he whined weakly, breaking in a soft cry. His shot arm had been carelessly bandaged and strangulated, throbbing, burning and hurting. Blood was dripping from his broken face, he couldn’t even tell what exactly bled, and he didn’t care. His body was covered in welts, dark bruises and a drying blood nobody cared to clean. Its metallic smell filled the air, making Brian’s stomach churn even more. Everything around got strangely blurred, and he felt dizzy. Home... he just wanted home...

Earlier that day, the torturer had taken several long needles, and thrust them in Brian’s upper thighs, stomach and shoulders. Now, every time a button was pushed, a shock ran through the crippled body, making it spasm in deep cramps. Every breath became painful, Brian thought perhaps his ribs got broken by the convulsions. Or by the kicking earlier, whatever...

“Well, well, well, look at you,” a voice said from the other side of the table.

Brian hissed, but managed to turn his head left to see. “You...,” he mumbled, “ugh...”

“I suppose after this procedure you’ll be a bit more... informative than few hours ago,” Foster grinned gleefully. 

“Nothing to tell... ah!” Another shock. 

“That’s more how I like it,” Foster chuckled and leaned against the wall. Watching Brian’s misery caused him a great pleasure, if one could judge by his face. “Now, who helped you to escape the prison?” he asked sharply. “I want names. Heard me? Names!”

“Fuck you!” Brian retorted. “Fuck you! Fuck all of you! Fuck off!”

“Not enough,” the torturer mumbled and turned to his boss, “we’ve got the acid ready, if you-”

Foster raised his hand. “No.”

That surprised both the torturer and Brian. But they understood nothing good would come of that order.

“Look at me,” Foster ordered and when Brian seemed unwilling, he grasped his face and turned it the right direction. “I said look at me.”

“That’s really a-a t-torture,” Brian muttered. His jaw hurt with every word, even more so when Foster squeezed it. Would he just stop, would it all just stop... Brian moved and a blinding pain ran through him. No relief... no hope... Only the last unbroken shreds of his pride kept him from bursting in tears right in front of the disgusting man.

“Do you see the blood?” Foster asked, pointing at a big stain at the front of his uniform. “Do you know where I got it? From your little friend, John.”

Brian’s eyes lost the haze of resignation for a second, and his stare pierced Foster. He knew this was a provocation, he just... couldn’t help it. “Where is he?” 

“Not far,” Foster replied carelessly. “And before you ask... he’s not well either. But not so unwell that I couldn’t make it much, much worse. Here’s the deal, Brian, you talk... and John won’t get hurt anymore.”

“Fuck off,” Brian managed to keep his quiet voice firm. “You can hurt us all you like, but we have nothing to tell you. We got out by ourselves - when the fire alarm started, our cell door opened. We’ve been hiding around the city since. Nobody helped us, believe it or not.”

The head of security only shrugged, and a little commotion from the door made Brian turn his head the other way.  
Two guards entered, supporting a half-unconscious man in between.

“Deaky...,” Brian whimpered, and his heart clenched at the sight. John was wrapped in a straitjacket, arms restrained behind his back. Large dark bruise covered nearly half of his face, but what scared Brian the most was the amount of bloodied gauze stuffed into John’s mouth. He still seemed to be muttering something, muffled by the gag, his pupils unnaturally widened, and the colour of John’s eyes was reduced in a thin ring around them. Drugged, Brian realized, and the cold sweat that covered him had nothing to do with his own physical pain. 

This is my fault, he realized desperately, my stupid idiotic decision got him here. Arrogant. Foolish. Worthless. Murderer. That’s all I am, I’m that and more.  
John swayed weakly and the guards just let him thud on the floor, face first. 

“Why the fuck are you standing there like two Holy Virgins, help him!” Brian snapped angrily. His last proud speck of energy, life and defiance was launched.

The guards even hesitated should they obey the command or not.

Foster huffed and kicked John to turn him on his back. “So, here you have him, your friend. Maybe with this view you manage to recall more details about the rebels.”

“There are no rebels,” Brian said automatically and winced when Foster kicked John once again. “I’m talking the truth!” he exclaimed. “What do you want me to say? What do you want from us? There are no rebels! Please!”

“Why don’t I believe you,” Foster contemplated, “oh, because you’re two freakish little liars, but... I know how to make this right.”

Brian’s heart sank when he heard that. More shocks? No, no, please, no more shocks, just no more... he shivered and rather watched drops of his own blood dripping in exact, regular intervals, creating a little pool on the floor. 

Foster ordered one of the guards out of the room, and the man returned in a minute, pushing a small movable table with some electronic device. It had a monitor and some electrodes... So... more shocks after all. Brian felt tired of it. Tired of the pain, he just wanted it to be over... in any way over...  
The torture glued three electrodes on Brian’s head and the tense silence was disturbed only by John’s unstoppable mumbling under the gag. He was also at the end of his strengths, not even trying to get up.

“This little machine will show us clearly if you tell me the truth,” Foster grinned and patted the monitor. “And if you lie, just once...,” the look he gave John was more than telling.

A lie detector? Brian forced himself to give it a thought. He had read something about lie detectors, a long time ago. No device can distinguish a truth from a lie, not really, they just monitor the brain activity and its location. In other words, it detected when the person knew he was telling a lie. So... a battle with his own mind, no lies allowed... Brian groaned internally, resisting a sweet shadow of indifference to take him. He just wanted to get away... from here... from the pain... from himself... Why don’t they just let him go...

“So...,” Foster started, watching a line on the detector’s monitor. “What’s your name?”

“Brian Harold May.”

“What was your position in the crew that arrived from Earth?”

“I’m a captain,” Brian replied. So far easy, but he knew worse would come. Much worse.

“After your arrival, we had you arrested and imprisoned,” Foster continued, “who helped you escape?”

Now think, Brian, think! “We walked out of the cell by ourselves,” he replied tiredly. The line stayed flat. Good.

“Only by yourself? There was nobody else?”

“In the cell? There was just John and me. As I told you before.” Brian kept walking on the eggshells, and, God, it was draining him...

Foster seemed a bit unsure. This wasn’t going as he expected. “How did you get out of the building?” he continued.

This Brian could answer clearly. “Through the fire escape and freight door.”

“And no one was with you?”

“Why should anybody be with us?” Brian retorted. “I told you we were in the cell alone and we walked out of there by ourselves. Nobody just appeared out of thin air, you know.” This was a risky game now. Foster could notice this sentence stood for more than just sarcasm or impudence. Brian hand-picked every word. No lie. The line on the detector’s monitor stood still.

Foster went on. “You spent quite a long time on Queen. What are the names of those who helped you?”

Because you’re just such a genius, better and cleverer than anyone else? You conceited, stuck-up cry-baby! You don’t need to come back. You’re no longer welcome. 

“We have no friends here,” Brian replied with tired conviction. They have no friends here... not anymore...

“Where did you sleep then?”

“In the desert,” Brian replied, focusing his mind on the last night when he and John had a short nap among dunes before their final hike to the Odeon tower. 

“What did you eat?”

“Isn’t your stupid alga the only thing one can eat here?” 

Brian’s head throbbed and his strength was slowly leaving, replaced by a pure passive suffering. He couldn’t keep this game much longer... He couldn’t think... he didn’t want to...

“Paul Prenter organised a search for you,” Foster continued, “where did you hide?”

“In garbage,” Brian mumbled truthfully. 

“In garbage where?”

“I don’t know the street...”

Suddenly the door opened again, and a young woman entered, clearing her throat, apparently unphased by the sight of two tortured men. “Mr. Foster?”

“Yes?” he snapped and turned from the detector, glaring with annoyance. “What is it?”

“We’ve got the results of their blood tests, per your request. One of them is a match and can be used for our transplantation program. John Deacon, sir.”

Brian’s mind had started to fade away, but this sentence snapped him back. “What?” he gasped.

Foster chuckled. “Oh, that... does a name Tim Staffell say anything to you?”

Tim... Brian moved his lips silently. No...

“He was one of those who came before you,” Foster continued, “and recently passed away in our care, unfortunately. However, the accident made his place conveniently available.” He glanced at John who was staring from the floor, frozen, choking on his gag full of blood. 

And then John screamed. And screamed and shrieked and made a weak attempt to break loose from his straitjacket, all futile. He could only stare at Brian in utmost horror when two guards lifted him up again.

“No! Please!” Brian begged. “No, please, no! Please!”

Foster stopped the guards with one gesture of his hand. “So?” he asked sweetly. “When you’re asking for favours, I suppose you have something to offer. I’m listening.”  
John’s eyes met Brian’s for the last time, full of fear, pain, and a silent plea. 

Brian lowered his eyes. “I have nothing,” he whispered. “Nothing. But... please...”

Foster huffed and waved towards John. “Take that away.”

Brian couldn’t stop the dread that was crawling like a cancer through his chest. He recalled Tim’s face, the way it had looked in that tank, and everything he had felt that day reappeared, just when he thought he couldn’t take anything more... All because of his stupid mistake. He was the captain, he was responsible for... the mission, the ship, and Deaky... Deaky...

“Just kill me,” Brian shivered. His breaths got fast and shallow as he fought the nausea turning his stomach inside out. “Kill me...”

Only by the way, Foster pressed a button and sent another shock through Brian’s body, getting a scream out of him.

“Isn’t it nice, Brian,” he smiled, “that we end up just the way we started? In fact, I should thank you – the delay made your death way more enjoyable. For me, at least. Though, by the looks of it... for you as well.” He turned to one of his henchmen. “Is the execution chamber ready?”

Brian’s heart actually fluttered with joy when he heard a positive answer.

“Ready, sir.”

“Very well,” Foster clapped and got up, “excuse me if I don’t join you, Brian,” he chuckled at his own joke, “this is where we part ways.”  
With those words, he left. 

 

***

 

All the lights in Freddie’s living room were on, but nothing could chase away the high-strung, palpable tension from the air. Roger paced around while Freddie just sat on the sofa, doodling nonsense into his notebook.

“Three days!” Roger exclaimed suddenly, but Freddie got already quite immune to these outbursts. Honestly, they got irritating really quickly. “Three days away and not a word.”

“Well, you made clear they’re not welcome back, darling,” Freddie replied without even looking up. 

“But that’s not what I meant, Fred!” Roger turned to him with a wild gesture. “We all knew this wasn’t like... definitive. They go, they come back, they say sorry and everything can be the way it used to.”

Freddie shrugged. “It may be.”

“It’s three days now!”

“Yes!” Freddie screamed furiously and jumped up. “It’s been days! I can count and I can hear you!” He pointed his finger at Roger in accusation. “I could hear you since you decided to camp here until they return, since you started with all that whining, oh, poor little you, - you caused this! You made this happen!”

“They’ll come back! We’ll look for them, we’ll bring them back!”

Sudden knock on the door startled them both, and just for a moment, they stopped the bickering.

“Who’s there?” Freddie called.

“Miami,” the voice behind the door said. “I’ve got news.”

Roger ran to the door and flung them open with the speed of light. “Come in, hurry,” he ushered Miami hastily to the living room. “What news? Where are they? Coming back? Yes? Are they-”

Words died out on his lips when Roger noticed the hacker’s face. Ashen and disconsolate. 

“Darling... what is it?” Freddie asked carefully. “What happened?”

“I... don’t know how to, but...,” Miami stuttered quietly, “... Prenter got them.”

“They’re captured?” Roger gasped. “Quick, we need to-”

“You don’t need to go there. They’re dead. Executed this morning.”

He said it with an air of finality neither Freddie nor Roger could question. A heavy silence fell across the room. None of them knew what to say... what to do... What even could be done? Dead...

“Roger?” Freddie whispered shakily.

“Yes?” Roger shivered and his face got pale. No... “Do you... want me to go?”

Freddie shook his head weakly and looked up. “No... unless you want to?” He held it together few more seconds before he burst in tears. Roger was next to him in a second and pulled his friend in a firm hug. 

Unlike Freddie, he was numb, just... numb. He couldn’t believe it, he just couldn’t, but... it hurt. He couldn’t say where, everywhere, nowhere, but... he felt if anyone would just say Brian’s name, he’d fall apart. Why... why! He rejected Brian so it wouldn’t hurt if... But... this hurt. So bloody hurt... No, no, no, Brian, no... Sudden tears sprung from his eyes as well, and he squeezed Freddie even tighter, holding onto him for dear life.

“I’m sorry...,” he mumbled desperately over his tears, “so sorry...”

Freddie said nothing, he only clutched Roger’s shirt tighter, his whole body shaking with heavy sobs. They didn’t want to fight, neither of them. They just couldn’t...  
Miami watched them from afar. His face stayed dry and sombre when he walked over to the kitchen for at least a glass of water. 

“They’re going to pay for this,” Freddie suddenly gritted his teeth with tears still freely falling. “The Institute will pay for this!”

Roger looked up from his shoulder, his eyes red. “How?” he whispered. “We can’t... Brian was right, like this we can never defeat them.”

Freddie breathed in and out to calm down. “We will, darling,” he said afterwards, his voice determined. “We’ll find a way.”


	28. A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR

Hello to all my amazing readers.

We’ve just reached the end of the first part of this story. The second one is going to take place after 2 years of Roger and Freddie learning how to live their lives without Brian and John. I’m so sorry about that last chapter, it was not easy to write it, believe me. I hope you keep reading, there’s still a long journey ahead!

Anyway, I decided to take this opportunity and thank you all for reading this story, for your wonderful comments and kudos. I know I’m not answering very often, but just because it would’ve been very repetitive: thank you, thank you, thank you! Keep them coming! Your reactions, and the knowledge you’re invested keep me going and make me determined to give you my best.

You can find me on Twitter as @KathleenTitlar1 so come and say hello (or scream at me for breaking your shipper hearts, all fine by me), also if you have any questions or requests (or complaints), either here in comments or privately there on Twitter, this time I’ll do my best to answer.

I’d also love to personally thank [orangetrees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangetrees) for the amazing fanart they sent me, have a look:

 

 

 

I’m sending kisses, darlings, and love you all so very much, and see you again soon, on Queen.

Yours,

Titlark

 

P.S.: I must admit I have a little plea towards you all. In real life I’m a big sister to an amazing, brave little sister who writes Star Wars fanfics here on AO3. The story is pretty good, so if there are some SW lovers among you, would you give it a read/kudos/comments? It would mean a lot to her and lift her spirits, which means a lot to me. Just don’t tell her I told you about it ;-) Thank you twice, guys!

<https://archiveofourown.org/works/20452616/chapters/48526049>

 

 


	29. Take My Death Away...

So long... so many days passed... He almost couldn’t believe it. Only the dates in his calendar screamed he wasn’t wrong. Was it really such a long time ago?

So strange, getting used to living alone, once again. Not too hard, after all, that’s how people of Queen normally lived, but still. Two years since... Two bloody years...

So much had happened...

So little happened... 

And now...

“You’re nervous,” Freddie’s voice reached Roger’s ears and forced him to get back to presence. 

They were sitting in the car, safely parked and hidden from everybody’s sight, just at the outskirts of the city. The desert in front of them bathed in the red light and the glistening sand mirroring it gave quite a spectacle.

“You always zone out when you’re nervous.”

Roger tapped his fingers on the stirring wheel. “Well, you’re doodling,” he mumbled, “it’s not like I’m the only one affected.”

“I’m writing a new song,” Freddie frowned, closing his tiny sketchbook, and tried to stretch in the limited space, this time actually grateful for his small build. 

Eyes of both men were fixated on the road from the desert. Waiting. 

“I still think it’s unfair it can’t be us going in,” Roger huffed after a long silence. “This is killing me.”

Freddie fidgeted on his seat like a flea-infested puppy, glancing on his phone every once in a while.

“If it’s really happening,” he whispered, “it must be soon. There isn’t much time if we’re supposed to do the main transport at dawn.”

“Taking their sweet time,” Roger mumbled, “if we went in-”

“Jim will do fine,” Freddie assured him, and lay his head against the headrest in quiet frustration, “and we talked about this. We can’t put ourselves out there, he was right to suggest this arrangement.”

“He’s always right - because he’s just so handsome?” Roger teased. 

“I said that once! Just once!”

“He’s got his eyes all over you since we’ve weaned him off the DHA. He might want to have his hands all over you as well. And calm down, you know I’m joking.”

Freddie waved his hand in dismissal and wrapped himself tighter in his jacked. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, besides, Roger most likely knew, but he was nervous. Nervous, excited... and scared, God, so scared... And all he could do... was nothing.

Roger sighed, staring at the empty road. His hands shivered. “Freddie?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks for being here, even though I know... you’d rather be there,” Roger vaguely pointed back to the city.

“To be completely honest, darling,” Freddie mumbled, “I’m not sure I would. Rather not. Does that make me... terrible?”

“Not at all,” Roger was fast with the reassurance. “And I... I know how you feel. Maybe I’m glad as well, despite what I said earlier. And I’m glad we’re in it together.”

Freddie took his friend’s hand and smiled. “Whatever may come. Till the end.”

Roger grinned in return. “Till the end.”

 

People on Queen could only argue where Trident, the huge industrial compound, got its name from. Ironworks, concrete and chemical plant - all of them old, large, pushed deep in the desert to hide the noise, dirt, smell and ugliness out of sight. Public got to enjoy its products, oblivious to what was kept hidden behind those heavy fences and tall gates. 

People would guess, Trident – three factories, hence the name. They’d be wrong.

The name came from three types of people kept in, sweating blood under the watchful eyes of guards and keepers. There were the ones that were born wrong, delayed or disabled, but still good enough for work. The public didn’t know about their existence, after all, the system was perfect, no mistakes allowed. The second kind, those were criminals who had committed crimes so heinous RISUGI considered necessary to separate them not only from society, but from people in general. Trident made sure the hard work skinned them alive. The third group of inmates seemed to be the rarest and most mysterious, simply called “the undesirables”. Different from case to case, they were whoever the Institute decided to brand that way. 

Three problems – one way to handle them. Trident.

No one who got in ever saw the outside world again. They all lived and died together, crammed in small spaces like sardines, starving, beaten, broken, reeking of illness, sweat and dirt. Forgotten by the world. Without hope.

 

Brian used to suffer, he knew that. But somehow... not anymore. His mind was floating on a soft, fluffy cloud of fever, and the rest of him just lay on the cold pallet, somehow far behind the point of awareness. He knew that soon they would come and beat him for not showing up at the line-up. He didn’t care. He listened to the murmur of the other unfortunates around him, while unhappily realizing the dryness of his mouth and a dull, painful throbbing in his arm. The wound after Prenter’s shot never healed, and since last week, when an impatient guard kicked Brian on the ground and stamped on it, it made a painful turn. So... here he was, with his arm swollen, blackening, and smelly with gangrene, while the weakness and feverish dreams made him hope for the merciful release of sleep... he just wanted to sleep... In his sleep, he could see an angel...

“Brian!” a quick whisper brought him back. “Got some good water for you. Drink it.”

He felt a hand lifting his head and a cold cup pressed to his lips. Eagerly, he swallowed few gulps – clean water was harder to come by since one of the taps got contaminated few weeks ago. That caused an outbreak of stomach flu among the inmates and filled the air in their stale facilities with a stench of vomit and diarrhoea. Some of the less fortunate simply didn’t have the mental capacity to comprehend the situation and use the cramped lavatories in time.

“Are you feeling better today?”

Brian turned his head tiredly after the voice and opened his eyes. Anita, an occupant of the neighbouring pallet, smiled. Not any different from all the others, she was gaunt and weary. Her bones protruded visibly under the unhealthy skin, and her red hair seemed dirty, greasy, and tied back, out of the way.  
She couldn’t even remember when she had gotten in, it must’ve been a long time ago, but somehow, she managed to take it day by day, and always find a reason to keep going. That’s how she got to like this strange, curly-haired weirdo, and decided to take him under her wing. She just assumed there must’ve been some mental disorder involved, Brian had loads of far-fetched, bizarre stories about being from a different planet. It never failed to make her smile.

“Anita...,” Brian mumbled and tried to reach for her hand. “More?”

“I’ll get more later,” she promised anxiously. “Can you work today?”

The answer seemed so obvious, Brian didn’t even bother.

“Brian, please, you can do this,” Anita begged with her eyes widened. “They’ll notice you’re not well you then-”

A loud bang of the door startled her, and she disappeared back on her pallet. Three men in uniforms entered. Two with a stretcher, the third one carried a small notebook. Everybody knew who they were. Not the names, but their profession certainly. Every morning they checked all the inmates, taking away the ones unable to work. Where to... well, nobody knew, but no one ever came back, so assumptions could be made.  
At least twenty pairs of anxious eyes watched the men in deafening silence. Steps of their heavy boots resonated through the space.

Brian didn’t even care when they stopped by his pallet. They looked like giants among all the pitiful skeletons. Deep brown eyes of the man with the notebook watched Brian with a hint of kindness.

“Are you Brian May?” he asked, leaned over Brian and touched his healthy forearm. 

Brian felt a sharp sting. A needle, he realized, suddenly in panic. 

Are they...? Wh-what’s going on?

Are they... going to... did he... what...? 

Everything around darkened and the last thing he heard clearly was the man’s voice: “Dead. Take him.”

 

Brian woke up, which he met with a certain confusion. So... this wasn’t the end? What are they going to do?  
He found thoughts annoying. His whole brain wanted to sleep, sleep, sleep, except for the two or three cells who just wouldn’t shut up, asking questions – what’s happening? 

Where am I? What is going to happen?

Who cares...

I care. I want to know.

Oh, shut up.

No. Where did they take me?

Somewhere. I don’t know. Sleep.

What’s happening?

Why would you even ask? It’s going to happen anyway, whether you know or not. And now shut up.

No. Wake up! Think, Brian!

No! Go away! No!

Wake up! Wake up! You’re awake!

Brian succumbed to the voice and decided to slowly analyse the situation. For now, he kept his eyes closed.  
Wherever they put him, it felt nice, warm and soft. Was he in bed? Why would anyone put him in bed? Them being nice... Not good... he concluded glumly.  
Why wasn’t he in pain? For months and months, pain had been his constant companion, not welcome, but always with him, well known and familiar. And now... gone. Just like that. What happened? He couldn’t comprehend it, he didn’t understand...

Oh, of course. Suddenly Brian got it, and his heart would sink lower were it possible. He had always suspected those unable to work would be brought to Institute and put in the tanks. Long, long time ago Foster didn’t send him there, but... they probably changed their mind about it.

Yes, that’s right, they took him away and put him asleep to do just that, that makes sense.

But in that case... Why am I not asleep? Why am I awake?

He couldn’t explain that. Maybe the sedatives were wrong. Should he say something? Fever or not, he had no desire to be cut to pieces while awake. Maybe he should try to fall asleep.

.... nope, still awake, Brian.

Oh, you again? Shut up.

You won’t fall asleep.

Why? I want to. I should.

Or you could just open your eyes.

No, he stubbornly argued, I don’t want to. Leave me alone.

Before the voice could go in dispute about the issue, Brian suddenly felt a soft touch on his face. He tensed inside, not moving a muscle, waiting in anticipation. They’re here... what’s it going to be?  
But... the sensation remained soft and warm – a hand caressing his cheek, so gently, tenderly...

“Anita?” Brian asked quietly in a timid hope. It didn’t feel like her touch, but who else could it be?

“What?” The hand stopped and Brian felt someone leaning closer. “Brian?” 

It wasn’t Anita, but... he knew that voice.

Brian smiled. So now it’s clear, he’s dreaming, oh, the relief! Dreaming of Roger. Nothing new, it happened lately, in those strange moments at dawn between sleep and consciousness. He wished they would come more often, though it made him sad, because they only lasted a heartbeat and then... he woke up. And remembered Roger wasn’t with him, and never would be.

The hand was back on his cheek and Brian leaned against it. Just a little bit, don’t ruin it! Dreams are fragile...

“Brian, open your eyes, look at me. I know you can hear me. Wake up, please, wake up...”

Wake up? Why would a dream want him to wake up? Does... does the dream want him to go away? Brian’s stomach clenched. The dream doesn’t want to be dreamt anymore...

Suddenly the hand gave him a little pat. “Brian! Open your eyes, please! Wake up!”

Wake up! Wake up!

Brian felt the sleepy haze slowly disappear, but everything around... the bed, the lack of pain, the hand touching him gently... instead of going away they felt realer by second. How...?

Hazel eyes opened wide.

It took several seconds until he could focus on the face above him. Soft features, large baby-blue eyes, and a worried wrinkle between them...

“Brian...,” Roger whispered ardently, “it’s me... it’s Roger... do you recognize me? It’s Roger...”

Roger...

Brian’s mind just short-circuited and froze, he couldn’t but stare while the whirlwind of emotions flew inside his head uselessly without any system.  
He knew this room, Roger’s bedroom. And he knew this bed, he used to sleep in it before. And he surely knew the blond man sitting at the edge of it.

Roger was worried and tired, he spent hours already watching Brian’s every breath, torn between the need to shake him awake and the necessity to wait. Give him time, doctor Atkins said, give him time... But he had waited for so long... so bloody goddamn long... Deep shadows under his eyes could tell the story.  
Brian seemed completely and absolutely confused, looking around aimlessly, everywhere except the only other man in the room. Roger finally ran out of patience, lifted Brian’s chin gently with his finger and forced him to look into his eyes.

“We saved you from there,” Roger explained quietly, “you’re out. You’re safe now, I promise.”

“Roger?” Brian peeped and his eyes filled with tears. “No... no... please... whatever you’re doing, stop! Stop!” He collapsed deeper into the pillow with a quiet wail. “Stop, stop!”

“Brian!” Now Roger grasped both of Brian’s wrists and held the bony hands against his own face. “You can touch me,” he said softly. “You see? I’m here. No tricks.”

He saw the pity state of Brian and wanted to vomit just imagining what had been done to him. He saw enough when they changed Brian’s clothes, more than enough when they treated his gangrenous arm, but to see Brian now... fearful, uncomprehending and suspicious, that... Roger clenched his teeth. He would kill the people responsible for that. Twice. He would kill them twice and burn them to ashes. 

Brian touched Roger’s face in awe, his fingertips examining every small detail with great focus. “You... got several grey hairs,” he giggled softly and touched Roger’s temples, “here and here.”

Roger chuckled. “That happens when you get over thirty.”

“And you’ve got a wrinkle, here,” he pointed right between Roger’s eyebrows. “Just the one. I...,” Brian let his hands down and shivered, “I... rescued? Gone?”

Roger smiled. “You are. At last.”

“But...,” a sudden sharp jolt of panic forced Brian to sit up, “... but you can’t, no!”

“Wait, lie down! Calm down!”

“No!” Brian’s breathing got quicker, and his eyes glistened. “No! We didn’t tell them... anything, but... they’ll find me, they’ll find you, they’ll hurt you, get me back! I have to get back, no, no! Put me back!”

“We’re safe,” Roger interrupted him quickly. “You need to breathe, Brian, do that for me. With me, come. Inhale... exhale... look at my face, just that, nothing else... inhale... exhale... inhale... nobody will hurt you anymore. Look,” Roger added tenderly when Brian seemed to be able to stay balanced, “I know you don’t feel like it, I know, but you are safe. Hear me. Just rely on me now, you’re not alone... you’re with me, Bri... and I’ve got you.”

“Anita’s alone,” Brian mumbled and lowered his eyes. 

Roger frowned. “Who the hell’s Anita?”

“My friend. You... you need to rescue her too, please,” Brian’s eyes were vulnerable and beseeching, as he painfully recognized his own inability. He could only beg others... he couldn’t do anything... And of course, Roger didn’t know Anita. Why would he save her... just look at his face.

“I’ll have to call Kash to ask Jim about it,” Roger said, frowning in thought, “won’t be easy for sure, especially after you got out. But we’ll do our best.”

Brian looked up in surprise. “You would do it? For me?”

“Of course.” Roger fixed a loose strand of curls falling over Brian’s face and smiled softly. “Anything for you, Bri. Anything.”

“But you don’t...”

“I don’t... what?”

Brian frowned. “Who’s Jim? And Kash?”

Roger’s smile got wider. “Well... let’s say our movement grew a bit. It’s not just us, there’s Jim and Kash, Dom, Mary, Peter, so many more. That’s how it even became possible to save you, just me and Freddie, we wouldn’t stand a chance. Trident... ugh... I’m so sorry,” he added quietly, “I’m so, so sorry, my love.”

Brian’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“Oh?” Roger hesitated for a second and his cheeks blushed deep red. “Brian!” he blurted out. “I said I was sorry, Brian! And I really am. We thought... we thought you were dead, for a long time... How did Foster even let you live?”

“Not Foster,” Brian shook his head and tried to hide the chill taking over his body. “Not Foster, he wanted us dead but... Deaky!” his eyes shot open. “You must know... Deaky’s dead, they put h-him... in-”

“Shhh, Brian, I know,” Roger quickly intervened and interlocked Brian’s restless fingers with his, “I know what happened.”

“It’s my fault-”

“No, it isn’t. And besides – we saved him with you. Both of you at the same time. Had we taken you one by one, after the first rescue the Institute would increase the security, making the second one impossible. That’s why it took so goddamn long... But now you’re here. You’re safe. And so is Deaky.”

Brian teared up. “Safe?”

“Yes, safe.”

“Is he... alright?”

Roger bit his lip. “Well... nothing vital is missing, that’s what Atkins says, but... we’ll have to wait.”

“I need to see him!”

“You will,” Roger promised, “once you both heal. You’ve been very sick, Brian. Atkins says few more days and we wouldn’t... be able to save the arm.”

Brian glanced towards the limb in question. It was still there, firmly bandaged. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he mumbled.

“We gave you lots of analgesics,” Roger explained, “to calm you down and dull the pain. You might feel a bit drowsy.”

Brian nodded obediently, and a glass of water on the nightstand suddenly drew his attention.

“Do you want to drink?” Roger reacted immediately, and after getting a positive answer, he took the glass to Brian’s lips. 

Just when the clear liquid touched his tongue, Brian realized how incredibly parched he was, and drank eagerly, emptying the glass within few seconds.

Roger chuckled. “Wait here, I’ll get you some more.”

“No!” Brian gasped in sudden panic and squeezed Roger’s hand so hard the blond squinted in pain. “Don’t leave, stay, stay-”

“Just to the kitchen,” Roger promised, “few seconds and I’m back.”

Brian closed his eyes shut in a wave of panic when Roger’s hand left his, and he could only hear the steps walking away. 

Calm down. 

Calm down.

You’re safe. 

He’ll come back.

Or not.

Brian kept biting his lip to supress the horrifying feeling of pressure on his chest and weakness flooding his whole body. He wanted to run but he couldn’t move, he wanted to...  
Are the steps still there? He listened. Are there? More of them? No, you’re imagining things, but... but... God, they found us they’re coming, they’re going to-

With a soft whine Brian, too weak and paralysed to do anything else, curled into a ball and dragged the blanket over his head.  
Yes, he knew this was useless. Yes, he knew he was being stupid, but the panic conquered his will, and he felt just too damn exhausted to fight it. His stomach clenched when he heard the steps again.

Roger re-entered the bedroom only to see a shivering bundle huddled under the covers, and his heart ached at the sight.

“Brian,” he called softly when putting the refilled glass on the nightstand, “I’m back with the water.”

No reaction, or maybe the shivering increased. Roger cursed himself internally for ever leaving when asked not to. Carefully, he touched the curve of Brian’s back and stroked it, humming softly.

“... In the bright shop window sits the polar bear... Makes the children's eyes light up to see him there... Oooh, amongst the tinsel he gives everyone a smile... Too see him as you'd see a star. Love him from where you are. He's not for, not for, not for sale...”

The shivering seemed to slowly go away, so, hesitantly, Roger reached under the blanket and touched Brian’s hand. It stiffened at first, but then slowly relaxed and let Roger hold him.

“It’ll be alright,” Roger whispered and lay down on the edge without letting Brian’s hand slip from his. He thought he could hear a soft, muffled cry from under the blanket, but he contained himself and didn’t look.

Brian needed time. They all did.


	30. Mercury Rising

Brian woke up early and it took some time for him to realize where he was. Oh, yes... he’d been rescued...

“Rescued...,” he whispered, “I’m away...”

The blanket he had hidden himself under was now neatly laid over him, and a new glass of water stood on the nightstand.  
He was alone, and honestly, he felt grateful for that. He needed the time... to think and, well... everything. 

Yellow rays of Alba somehow got through the black draperies and now created patterns on Brian’s blanket. He caressed them while watching his own fingers – gaunt, calloused and unkempt. It felt almost like a sin to touch all this clean, soft beauty. He shifted uncomfortably. Whatever painkillers he was given before, they already started wearing out and the familiar ache slowly emerged. Something twitched inside of the healing arm, but through the bandages Brian couldn’t see. He tried to focus rather on breathing and enjoy the feeling of air coming in and out of his lungs. He imagined the blood with fresh oxygen running through the arteries and then back in veins... ah, much better... during the days in Trident he brought this little exercise to perfection.

Breathing means not dead...

Breathing means not dead... and now, here, out of Trident... he quite liked the idea of not dying...

A rebellious thought lit up inside his head. I won, Brian grinned gleefully, I won, you damn fuckers.

After few minutes, the silence started to be unpleasant. Where is Roger? Brian wanted to go look for him, but then he hesitated. Was he... allowed to get up? The last think he should do was to make Roger angry, he knew that... But what if Roger expects him to get up and now... God, everything was just too confusing, it made his head ache.

“Roger?” Brian peeped shakily. “Roger?”

No answer. 

Brian did his best to supress another shiver. Was he alone? Did Roger leave? Was he captured, oh, God, what if-  
No, he ordered himself sharply. No. Not panicking. Not happening. You put yourself together, Brian May. You won. You won.

Still, it took all his willpower to pluck up the courage to let his feet down in the ground and sit up. The carpet felt funny, and Brian had the crazy idea to bend down and touch it. Like a sheep, if you cut the wool very very short. He snickered.

Suddenly, the door squeaked, and Brian let out a soft yelp. “No!”

It was Roger, still drowsy, wrapped in a blanket. “I thought I heard something,” he explained and smiled, “it’s ok, just me. How are you, sleepyhead?”

Brian thought about it. Well, his body hurt and... he was quite hungry, to be honest. Would he... would he get food if he asked?  
“I’m good,” he mumbled and rather drew himself back under the blanket.

“Well, that’s always good to hear.” Roger came and sat on the edge of Brian’s bed. His blue eyes showed nothing but kind tenderness. It bemused Brian, but he liked it.

“I wanted to wake you up anyway,” Roger continued, “soon it’ll be time for your meds. Does anything hurt?”

Brian smiled and shook his head. “Nothing at all.” And he watched how Roger’s face lit up. Correct answer, yes! Good!

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

Roger looked a bit worried. 

“... Yes?” Brian tried again and held his breath.

“So, what is it?” Roger’s frown deepened as he took Brian’s hand. “You... you know you can just tell me. Anything you want, Brian,” he looked up and their eyes met. “We’re... friends, aren’t we? I got you out of Trident, and I’m going to make sure you’re as alright as possible, but you must help me. Please... you don’t have to be afraid of me. Or anyone else when I’m with you.”

For a moment, Brian looked away from that blue gaze, and then he mumbled: “My arm... hurts and... and I’m hungry and... itchy.”

Roger nodded. “So, what do you say we give you those pills, then you have a nice shower and then breakfast? Would you like that?”

Brian couldn’t believe his luck. He’d really like that very much. Roger returned his smile.

 

Standing up and walking around, especially after the new painkillers, turned out to be a bit tricky, so Roger decided not to leave Brian in the bathroom alone, not even for a moment.

Brian actually preferred it, curled on the tiled floor of the shower stall while the bathroom was slowly filled by a steam. The hot water poured down over his back, dripped by his side, and the sensation calmed him so much he let his mind flow on a soft cloud created by the painkillers. Everything became a foggy illusion, but this time, he felt relaxed and safe, while Roger’s clever fingers spread shampoo into his hair, gently massaging the scalp.

To be honest, he might have even felt better than Roger did, at least in that moment. Because... Roger could see. And he did see. He saw every vertebra and every rib outlined under the paper-like skin of Brian’s back. He saw the dark boot-shaped bruise on his left flank, he saw all the cuts, weals and sores of malnourishment. As he ran his hands through Brian’s curls, bunches of weakened hair got stuck between his fingers, no matter how gentle he tried to be. He rather threw them away while Brian wasn’t looking.

“Now tell me if anything hurts, okay?” he mumbled, switching off the water and taking a towel. “I’ll try to go easy.”

His heart ached at the scene in front of him.  
Brian was kneeling in the shower, naked and dripping wet. His shoulders hunched in a pose of utter resignation as he leaned forward with his arms against the wall for balance.  
Roger bit his lip. What if... everything he tried to do... was pointless? No, of course not, surely wasn’t, but what if... Brian just... stayed that way? What if they did break him? Since Miami found out the Institute had shifted Brian to Trident, Roger held on with a desperate prayer – he’s strong, he’s strong, he’s strong – but... after all, there was only that much a person could bear and...

“Roger?”

Soft voice brought him back to presence. Brian was looking up at him, waiting, and the spark in his hazel eyes seemed to be anything but resigned. Warmth, trust, calm... and an imperceptible amusement.

“Brian?” he whispered.

“Roger... can I have that towel?”

 

The following days of confinement seemed one just like the other. Brian spent most of the time sleeping or walking aimlessly from one room to another. Four days later he already asked for books, on day five he even helped Roger with cooking and cleaning. 

They also had visitors. Firstly, a lean balding man Roger introduced as doctor Atkins appeared every second day with a new stash of pills and bandages for Brian’s arm. Secondly, Mary Austin, who watched over Brian during the hours Roger couldn’t. She clearly knew about his whole situation, though never asked any questions and basically never talked about anything unless Brian mentioned it first. 

Everything seemed to be covered by a thin layer of secrecy and mystery. Nameless figures came and went after only exchanging few words with Roger in the doorway. Brian didn’t like them and rather stayed hidden. Many people... and yet, no Freddie, no Miami... no John. Brian began to worry. 

It took about another week before he mentioned going out of the flat, and about another one more before Roger allowed it.

 

Finally, the day came. Brian dressed carefully, mindful of long sleeves to cover the injured arm, and, with distain, of a hat to tame his curls.

When he emerged from the bedroom, ready to go, Roger got up with a smile. “Perfect,” he grinned, “I would’ve even pass you by in a crowd.”

“I’d rather you wouldn’t,” Brian mumbled and automatically reached for the blond’s hand. Despite his firm determination, he couldn’t but feel quite nervous about all this.

“I’ve got you,” Roger assured him and led them out of the house and straight to his car. 

“We’re driving?” Brian was surprised, but obeyed anyway and strapped himself in. “I thought... this would be just a walk.”

Roger looked at the time before quickly starting. Soon his car seamlessly joined the traffic. 

“Oh, much more than just a walk,” he winked, turned left and then left again. To the centre, Brian remembered. Roger continued: “But we’ll walk a little as well. There is... I need to show you something. A lot has changed. You’ll see.”

 

Well, certainly not the architecture, Brian thought glumly, because the houses looked just as ugly as ever, streets just as full of sand as he remembered, and Alba’s light just as bright.  
The people, well... the clothes, maybe. As if somebody handed around a palette of colours and asked everyone to go nuts. Two years ago, it was all white, black, blue and beige – now at least half of passer-byes almost hurt Brian’s eyes with those showy, and frankly psychedelic, shirts and dresses. 

Streets got also way noisier than he remembered, but that could be just because he spent such a long time in places of quiet misery. Everything seemed to be boiling with a loud chatter, laughter, whooping, shouting.... and singing?

Brian quickly turned around, trying to catch a glance of the place where the few melodic tunes came from. 

... mine I possess you, belong to you forever... forever... forever... 

_“Roger!” he gasped. “There’s someone singing!”_

“That’s possible,” Roger’s smile looked very suspiciously smug. “Why don’t you have look at those two on the corner?”

Brian did... A boy and a girl, just like any other, but... kissing. And not by any accident, no. He admired their lung capacity. The couple crawled all over each other, squeezing, touching, nibbling and tasting.

What the...

Now he realized those two weren’t the only ones. These women over here – not exactly kissing, but their heated stares gave a clear idea of what was about to happen in private. And the boy in orange striped shirt, standing in a line in front of a hardware store, his hand rested comfortably on the arse of the one in front of him, who didn’t seem to mind one bit.

The closer they were to the centre, the more crowded the streets became and more sights opened. Just like Earth... Brian’s heart fluttered with excitement... even though, not really, because some social norms existed – and here people simply didn’t care. With a blush, Brian turned his sight from a couple with hands in each other’s trousers, clearly very engrossed in their activity. 

And more singing. 

“What the hell, Roger?” Brian whispered when they finally stopped, and he hopped out rather impatiently. “What is this?”

Roger shrugged, hiding a grin. “Well, that’s what happens when people stop with their DHA. Honestly, this is even better than we imagined,” he chuckled. “Things got a bit out of hand.”

“I can see that...,” Brian mumbled cluelessly and let Roger take his hand again and dive in the crowd. It did make him a little anxious, but the surprise and incomprehension beat all the other emotions he might have felt. 

It looked like in those documentaries about the twentieth century’s seventies, San Francisco, children of flowers and all that. No flowers here though, and no pot, but one could smell the jittery excitement from the air. Of course, not all the people acted that way, but even a couple (or more) here and there didn’t fail to scream change.

Brian’s mind was blown, and he kept himself close to Roger’s side as they walked across the large city square full of people.

“We’re here just on time,” Roger smiled and nodded to the nearest bench. “Do you need to sit?”

“In time for what? What is going on here?” Brian insisted urgently. “Roger...”

“Look,” Roger took caressed his hand a bit and then pointed to the corner of the nearest roof. “Over there... and there...”

“What are those?”

“The city intercom,” he explained. “It’s been here for ages, RISUGI uses it quite often for public announcements.”

Brian frowned. “I remember some of those. But why are you showing me this?”

“Because we got in. And so far... we stay.”

“So, you speak to people?”

Roger’s face was giddy with anticipation. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to see this.”

“But what-”

Suddenly a loud tune interrupted the crowd’s chatter. A soft drumbeat and a long wail of guitar. Brian’s eyes widened, but he just squeezed Roger’s hand even more, because the crowd went crazy, all cheering and screaming.

“Freddie is here!”

“It’s here, he’s here!”

“Freddie! Freddie! Freddie!”

More people ran from the adjoining streets to take part in the boiling frenzy. All the voices slowly morphed into one uniformed chant which ran down Brian’s back like a continuous electric jolt. He wasn’t even aware he got up from the bench.

“MER-CU-RY”

“MER-CU-RY”

“MER-CU-RY”

“Yeah!” Roger yelled and gave Brian one of his brightest smiles. 

“Yes, it’s me, my darlings,” a voice spoke all over the place and the crowd quieted immediately not to miss a single word, “I cannot even tell how happy I am to see you all again in such great numbers.”

Brian glanced in the direction everybody else was staring – and suddenly, he saw him.  
Lean, extravagant looking man with long, raven black hair and face covered with so much make-up one couldn’t distinguish his features underneath. And his outfit was even crazier – nothing but skin-tight harlequin leotards with a cleavage so deep it showed the man’s chest and a great deal of stomach as well. 

“Freddie...,” Brian whispered, hypnotised by the sight. “That’s-that’s our Freddie...?”

Roger grinned. “Brian May, I give you... Freddie Mercury.”

“So many lovely ladies and gentlemen here tonight,” Freddie cooed into his microphone, and the voice resonated all over the place from Institute’s speakers. With ease, he jumped up on a bench, smoothly like a cat. Brian could hardly recognize the sweet, a bit awkward, young man he used to know. This was someone else, this was... Mercury.

“Miami has him covered by a blind zone, and all the cameras here are shut down” Roger whispered, but Brian didn’t even hear him, too captivated by the flamboyant figure in front of them.

“Now, my darlings, move a little and make some space,” Freddie asked and leaped from the bench on a roof of the nearest car. The crowd obeyed immediately. “That’s how I like it, dears! I can’t even count how many times I called to RISUGI and asked them to build me a proper stage. They never answered, for some reason.”

The crowd burst out laughing.

“They’d like to take me from you, that’s what they want,” Freddie tutted, “you know that. We all know what they’re doing, darlings. I see many of you stopped with DHA, and that’s right, my congratulations!”

Some people cheered. “Freddie! Freddie!” 

“Just recently, a little wind blew into my ear, that two visitors from Earth had been rescued from the Institute, would you believe it? Foster had them tortured!”

Freddie left an effective pause for the crowd to boo in outrage.

“Interrogated!..... Imprisoned!”

Brian shut his eyes and tried to breathe.

“Are you alright?” Roger whispered in worry. “I can take you elsewhere...”

“No, I want to see this. Freddie...”

“Unbelievable, isn’t he?”

The audience doubled in numbers as other people ran to the square to see. Everybody seemed to know Freddie – easy to guess this wasn’t his first performance by far.

“Such a nasty, disgusting bunch RISUGI is,” Freddie said with the deepest disgust and everybody yelled in agreement. “And this could be such a nice world without them. Heaven, even, darlings. Heaven for everyone!”

In that moment Brian realized the music he heard from the start didn’t disappear, only turned down a notch to fully blast now. Freddie gave it a second before he raised his microphone once again... and started singing.

 _“In these days of cool reflection_  
you come to me and everything seems alright.  
In these days of cold affections  
you sit by me and everything's fine  
Yeah, this could be heaven for everyone  
This world could be fed, this world could be fun  
This should be love for everyone, yeah!  
This world should be free, this world could be one  
We should bring love to our daughters and sons  
Love, love, love, this could be heaven for everyone!”

Fascinated, Brian watched how Freddie moved around with almost inhuman energy, using the space he’d been given, and the voice... God... who would ever imagine... Brian only heard it and his mouth went dry.  
The crowd was hanging on every word, every tune, as if in trance of sorts, getting into an absolute frenzy. The adrenaline ran high as they joined in for the refrain, singing their lungs out, screaming and cheering. Freddie truly held magical power over them.

“I wrote that one!” Roger yelled in Brian’s ear. “And I play the instruments too, we recorded it all, but Freddie insists on singing live!”

Good choice, Brian thought, utterly mesmerized. Some long-forgotten spark in his chest ignited a fire that only grew and grew – his head felt light, exploding with the joy of music. 

_This could be heaven_  
This could be heaven  
This could be heaven for everyone 

Freddie now jumped from one car roof to another, earning a groan from Roger.

“He promised he wouldn’t do that...,” the blond mumbled.

 _Listen what people do to other souls,_  
They take their lives, destroy their goals!  
Their basic pride and dignity  
is stripped and torn and shown no pity  
When this should be heaven for everyone!  
This could be heaven  
This could be heaven  
This could be heaven  
Could be heaven for everyone...

Roger glanced at his phone and tugged Brian’s sleeve once again. He looked nervous.

“Brian?”

“Eh... yes?” Brian shouted back, such noise was all around.

“Now whatever happens, I need you to stay calm and do exactly what I say! You’re with me, you’re safe, understood?”

That captured his full attention and Brian tore his eyes from Freddie and the makeshift stage. “Why?” he hesitated. “What-what’s going on?” 

“It’s been ten minutes already and that means-”

Roger didn’t even finish the sentence when three small vans in colours of RISUGI emerged from behind the corner, sirens screeching loudly. Chaos ensued.

“No!” Brian cried out and covered his eyes when soldiers quickly jumped out and started to disperse the crowd. The singing stopped and the music died out. “No!”

“Brian! Brian we need to go, now! Brian, please!”

He still had his eyes closed but succumbed to the force tugging on his sleeve and ran where it led him. Like in a dream he felt somebody pushed him in the back of a car, then a soft click of other doors, the motor screeched, and they moved.

Brian covered his face, shivering violently. This was pointless, this was stupid, but he couldn’t help it, too much, too much! He tried to focus all the will left in him on breathing, to slow it down, while his heart pulsated in his chest quickly and painfully.

Some voices mumbled and suddenly a hand touched Brian’s hunched back. He didn’t mind, but he didn’t look up either. Hysterical tears burned in his eyes.

“... too soon, don’t you think...”  
“... been weeks, just couldn’t...”  
“...ever feel better?”  
“Brian? Brian, darling, it’s alright now, you’re with us.”

Slowly, Brian started to realize that the hand patting his back can’t be Roger’s, as he was too busy driving away.

But then...

He looked up only to meet a stare of kind, smiling dark eyes. Their owner was now wearing a long coat, possibly over his leotard, and a hat instead of the long-haired wig. His make-up was hastily wiped away.

“Freddie...,” Brian whispered and immediately got trapped in a tight hug.

“Oh, Brian, darling,” Freddie shined, “finally, I can’t believe it’s really you, all good and in one piece! Now, strap yourself. Our driver says he always obeys the speed limits, but speed limits my arse.”

“Fuck you, Fred,” called Roger from the front. “One more time you bitch about it and I’ll just drive away, I swear.”

Brian chuckled. “Freddie?” he asked.

“Yes, darling?”

“You... you are unbelievable, just... amazing.”

At those words, Freddie blushed. “Well, of course I am, my dear,” he answered cockily. “I’m a legend.”

Roger made a sound between laugher and a snort, slowed down, and smoothly pulled out to the main road. Nobody followed them.


	31. Mercury Rising, part II

John Reid was pensively staring out of his window in the toppermost floor of RISUGI, overlooking the city. 

His city. 

For some reason, he felt amused. Strange how emotions get to you in moments like these. The moments when you're taken in an avalanche of events, but somehow manage to stop and look around, surprised by the view. 

This planet, Queen, the system... it gave him everything he wanted. Everything anyone could ever want. There was no word over his, Reid's power was absolute. As long as everybody belived it. Oh, he knew... 

Still, Reid wished for more. Something better than this world. His world. Dying world. Their genetic programs no longer sufficed, experts told him clearly enough. One generation, maybe two... what's the point, really. But they'll go on. It must go on. To admit this failure would be like a defeat. The end of RISUGI, the end of John Reid. Especially now, when people started to boil under his feet, raising their voices and crying for a change. They might not know how helpless this trap of fate is, but perhaps they sense it. 

Often, he felt angry and helpless, after all, he deserved better destiny that to rule the pathetic, degenerate world. Opportunities come when you least expect them, don't they? Oh, they do, they so do... and John Reid wasn't willing to let this one slide that easily. He would get his great future, certainly so.

It was two weeks since the astronauts disappeared. The initial frantic search and a storm of his rage were over - now it was time to think.

He turned around to glare at Foster hunched in front of his desk. Paul Prenter, with his omnipresent smug grin, was leaning against the wall in the background. "So?" Reid asked softly. "What do you have for me, Foster? You said it was urgent."

"It's Mercury again, sir. There had been another protest performance, this time directly in the centre."

Reid raised an eyebrow. "Therefore you finally managed to catch the man, arrest him and execute him?"

Foster squirmed. "No, sir."

"That's most unfortunate." Reid sighed, walked around his desk and sat on its edge, looking like a mildly disappointed teacher scolding his class. "Foster... do you realise how much those street comedians interest me? I give you a clue - not even a little bit. This game they're playing with you is pathetic and your approach nothing but laughable."

"Mercury's talking treason," Foster insisted, "sir, you must see this situation as critical."

"Then arrest him," Reid chuckled. "And let me know how that goes. But I think May and Deacon should bother you more than one lunatic and his bunch of degenerates."

"Mercury talked about them," Foster stubbornly continued. "Just today. He surely has something to do with their escape."

"The man talks about effects of DHA as well, and we considered that a private information. He has sharp ears as well as tongue. Considering the mess your department is, Foster, I'm surprised only Mercury talks about them."

"Crowds listen-"

"Crowds are entertained," Reid interrupted him quite impatiently, "because he brings something new. That doesn't mean he's dangerous. Those people from Earth and whoever rescued them, however... I would expect you to show some effort in that area."

"They spent two years in here," Foster protested, "sir, it's them who isn't dangerous. But Mercury-" 

"One more time, Foster, one more time I hear that name. Do whatever you want about him. Now get out."

The Head of Queen's security didn't have to be told twice, he bowed in haste and disappeared.

Reid huffed and sat down properly behind his desk. He was tired. "I swear I'll have that idiot's genome reevaluated," he mumbled. "Take a seat, Paul."

Prenter had just waited for this moment. Quickly, he did as told and poured his boss a drink in the process. "You're tense," he remarked with a hint of amusement. "As if we had to care. Everything's nearly ready."

"Nearly," Reid emphasised. "Nearly, that's what worries me. What if we'll need him?"

Prenter shrugged. "We didn't need him for the last half a year. That's why you had him shifted to Trident."

"He says one word about our plan to rebels and everything's gone, Paul! Not even necessarily to rebels, to anybody! Even Foster, if he finds out."

"He won't, I'm making sure of it," Prenter tilted his head, "that's why I forbade him to take my people for any more raids. He won't find neither May, nor Deacon. I will."

Reid snorted. "Who cares about Deacon. Thanks to Foster's stupidity and our zealous medical department he was ruined for us from the start. Now... if the rebels want him, they can bloody enjoy him. He's of no use to anybody and never will be. May though..."

"May is a wreck," Prenter assured him, "I taught him better than to talk about what he did for us, and the stay in Trident only finished him off. Even if rebels do interrogate him, torture him, whatever, he'll keep his mouth shut. We're safe."

"Still, I want him back," Reid insisted firmly. "That's your job, Paul. Get May, I don't care about the others or about whatever methods you use."

"Very well, sir. One more thing though."

Reid reclined in his chair a little more. "Yes?"

"I read a transcript of Deacon's interrogation from two years ago."

"Wasn't he under the tonguelooser at the time?" Reid chuckled. "I admire your bravery."

Prenter smiled. "Among all the gibberish he mentioned "Freddie". There was no such name in our records, I just assumed it had been someone from Earth, but now, when Freddie Mercury appeared... it might not be a coincidence."

"You mean... that Foster was right?" Reid groaned. "Eh, I hate when that happens. Well then. Go after Mercury if you think it necessary, but do it discreetly and don't forget what the main goal is. If May talks... and Mercury opens his stupid mouth about it... we're both finished."

"Soon the rebels will be dead, together with Mercury, and May back in our care," Prenter stroked his chin, "I'll make sure of it."

Reid nodded. "Good. Now go."

When Prenter left, the Head of RISUGI once again glanced from the window. God, how he hated this place.


	32. Crazy little thing called John

Despite Freddie’s worries concerning Brian, Roger still insisted taking him out to see the performance was a good idea, and Brian himself was prone to agree. Something about it, maybe the music, maybe the excitement, maybe Freddie himself, poured fresh blood into his veins. 

At least that’s how he described it to Roger two days later, while they lay together in bed. He still preferred not to touch more than a necessary, but this quiet companionship calmed him, made him feel safe. And Roger was more than happy to oblige. It was his mission, his task, and a matter of pride to tear Brian from the dirty clutches of the Institute. Not just a body, but soul as well. Every Brian’s step on a way to healing, Roger watched with a furious pride, and his rebel heart danced. This is the man who survived despite all odds, a man stronger than the Institute, a man who couldn’t be bent or broken by anyone’s will. 

He’s mine, Roger thought possessively. He wasn’t patient by nature, not even in the slightest, but not stupid either. He could understand a lot and learn fast, especially from his own mistakes. And for things that were worth it, he could wait. Persistently so. He is mine, his inner voice repeated, while Roger caressed the back of Brian’s hand. And one day, perhaps, he’ll want me to be his once again. And... he never felt more ready to say yes.

“Roger?” Brian mumbled, interrupting a long silence. “Are you asleep?”

“Just thinking,” Roger turned on his side to face his companion. “Why? Breakfast? Pills?”

“What’s wrong with John?”

Roger froze, which caused him to answer good two seconds later than would fit his casual tone. “What should be wrong with him? He’s resting, healing, just like you.” 

Hm. There were several ways how to lead this battle, and Brian chose the diplomatic approach.

“I see,” he nodded, “so... as I’m getting better, and he, as you say, is doing the same, then we could, I don’t know, go and see another performance together.”

Roger quickly found a way to dodge off the topic. Or so he thought.  
“There won’t be another performance until next week, at least. We need to find a location, Miami get control of all the security systems... And maybe we even go to New Lynn or even further, and I’m not taking you there, not yet. But,” he continued before Brian even managed to open his mouth, “a thing we also do, and you might actually help with that, is that we send our recordings randomly to people to listen to at home, because, you understand, that it works way better if Freddie sings something they already know, at least a little bit, especially with the limited time.” 

Brian shrugged. “I could do that. Freddie is busy, after all. Looking after John, day and night...”

“Yes, quite, so-”

“So John isn’t that well,” Brian fired his shot.

“I didn’t say that!”

“And he’s at Freddie’s.”

“I didn’t say that!” Roger exclaimed once again, but Brian already jumped out of bed and headed right for his shirt and trousers.

“I’ll tell them you say hello, if they ask,” Brian promised, pulling off the top of his pyjamas.

Roger hissed. “You’re not going.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so, that’s why, and this is my flat, my bed, my rules and-”

“-and my officer,” Brian interrupted him, frowning and half-naked, “and my friend. So whatever you tell me or not tell me, I’m going. It’s been two years, but I still remember the way well enough.”

“Brian whatever-your-middle-name-is May!” Roger fumed and angrily got out of bed.

“Harold!”

“Whatever! You don’t think for a second you’re going anywhere alone!”

“I’m glad we’ve reached an agreement,” Brian smiled and finished the buttons of his shirt. “Get dressed, I’ll make breakfast and let’s go.”

“Brian, please,” Roger ran the few steps to him and took his elbow, “please, I understand you mean well, but-”

“It’s not that I mean well, Rog. I must see him. Whatever it may be. Is he...,” his voice wavered for a moment, “you said he was alive. He... is alive, right?”

Roger heavily nodded. “Yeah, he’s alive. Just, please...”

“Then I’ll see him,” Brian said with an air of finality, and Roger knew a lost battle when he saw one. He sighed. 

 

Once they got from the car in front of Freddie’s house, Brian headed quickly and impatiently in, taking two steps at once, while Roger rushed after him. He never understood how people on Earth could keep their children at home, he had to keep an eye on just that adult one and already felt exhausted.

“Brian, wait-”

But Brian was already knocking on the door. Just when Roger finished the stairs, Freddie opened, his surprise apparent.

“Hi, Freddie.”

“Brian, darling,” Freddie swallowed and tried to be inconspicuous when closing the door a bit and blocking a view inside. “We didn’t expect you...”

“Yes, I know, but I came to see John. And don’t try to make excuses,” Brian added upon seeing his reluctant host’s expression. 

Freddie gave a murderous glare to Roger, who just shrugged. By the time, Brian’s blood boiled, and he had to summon all his self-control not to simply shove Freddie aside and see for himself. He was afraid, of course he was, about what he’d find. Why do they keep John away from him, is it... too bad? Or perhaps is it John – John doesn’t want to see me! Of course, Brian thought, I was the one who caused this in the first place, who dragged him into a trap which led to him being arrested, tortured and... and... Brian hesitated. Maybe they were right, this wasn’t a good idea at all and-

Freddie sighed. “Very well. Come in, both of you. But Brian,” the dark eyes pierced him sharply, “stay calm, don’t argue with him,” then the tone softened a bit, “and remember, dear, it’s alright, ok?”

Brian shivered nervously, but gave a nod in response and Freddie finally stepped back, letting them in.

The flat looked just like Brian remembered it, except for the boxes that used to be spread all over the ground. But the furniture, the rugs, the paintings, all remained the same. Somehow, it calmed him.

Vaguely familiar dark-haired man walked out of the kitchen. Brian knew he’d seen him somewhere, but...

“I didn’t know we’re expecting guests,” he smiled warmly, “I must say, I was looking forward to meeting you again, Brian. Hi, Rog.”

“I’m sorry...,” Brian was a bit confused, glancing around, no sign of Deaky, “have we met?”

Freddie quickly stepped forth, took the man’s hand and led him closer. “Brian, this is Jim Hutton. You’ve met him before, dear. He’s the one who got you out of Trident.”

“Oh.” Oh, yes, of course... He recalled that moment, the man pronouncing him dead, and... “What... what was it you gave me?” Brian asked for the lack of other questions. 

“Just a hypnotic,” Jim answered kindly. “It should’ve knocked you out for few hours, but you actually woke up after – how long was it, Roger?”

“Almost two days,” Roger huffed, “I thought I’d peel out of my skin with nerves.”

“I had to get actually employed in there to see the inner workings of the place,” Jim explained. “Passing you as dead seemed to be the only option, because all the corpses are taken out to the incinerator in New Lynn. Freddie and Roger waited half-way and took you over.” 

“Ehm... thank you,” Brian mumbled. He noticed the warm glance Freddie gave the man and didn’t like it in the slightest. Where was John?

Jim smiled. “My pleasure, I heard so much about you, Brian May. Mostly from Roger.”

“Well, I know him the best, don’t I,” Roger snapped, a soft blush appearing on his cheeks as he spoke, “and besides, I’m the one who-”

A sudden commotion from the bedroom interrupted him. A loud crash followed by a small giggle.

Freddie tensed. “Are you alright in there, doctor Atkins?”

“Oh, yes,” a short, balding man appeared in the door with an exhausted smile, “just changed the infusion and dropped the-” suddenly, he noticed Brian, “-ah. What are you doing here?”

Brian frowned. “Visiting my friend. I remember you recommended walks.”

The doctor seemed he wanted to make a point, but meeting with Brian’s stubborn expression changed his mind. 

“Just, please, try not to disturb him more than necessary,” he sighed. “And yourself.”

“Doctor... how is he?” Brian asked quietly, itching to run in there and have a look, but something held him back. Fear? Was he such coward?

Doctor Atkins shrugged. “Better than he was, and certainly better than I expected, considering... all the circumstances. How do you feel, by the way?”

“Confused,” Brian admitted.

“Your arm,” Atkins chuckled, “dear boy, despite being the only doctor at this rebellion’s disposal, I’m still just a surgeon, not a psychiatrist, though,” he turned to Freddie, “I’d recommend you use your magic to lure some, they might be greatly needed.”

Freddie chuckled. “I’ll do what I can, dear.”

“So, Brian... the arm? Good?”

Brian nodded. “Arm’s good. Working. So, I suppose...,” he glanced towards the bedroom door and then to Roger.

“We’re with you,” Roger assured him and squeezed his hand in reassurance. “Come, we shouldn’t leave him alone for long.”

 

With his heart beating wildly, Brian pushed the bedroom door open, and a familiar pair of grey eyes met his.

John Deacon, flesh and bones, was lying calmly in Freddie’s bed, propped up by several pillows. The bed itself had been shifted into the middle of the room to accommodate a coat hanger which now served as a provisional infusion stand. Two long lines from plastic sacks full of transparent liquid ended right in John’s pale wrists resting gently on the covers. 

Brian’s heart skipped several beats and a whole mountain of stones fell from his chest.

“Deaky...,” he whispered shakily, “thank God...”

John seemed to be pallid and thinner than before, his dark brown hair had been cut short, but nevertheless – he looked so calm and happy, and once he spotted Brian at the door, his eyes lit up and he smiled widely, as if no sight in the world could give him greater joy.

“I can’t believe I got to see you again,” Brian continued, a little embarrassed by the teary sound of his voice, but he just couldn’t help it. Deaky is alright... Deaky is alright... 

John tilted his head, thinking, and then he just turned away, as if he didn’t find Brian interesting enough, and returned to his previous activity.  
Brian blinked in confusion. Only now he noticed there was a paper and at least twenty crayons scattered all over the blanket. John considered several options and decided for the red one.

Was he... drawing?

Brian shot a glance in Freddie’s direction, and the other man just shrugged. “He spends a lot of time like this,” Freddie explained wearily. “And doesn’t allow me to throw away any, we’ve got an impressive collection.”

“Melina!” John suddenly exclaimed, his voice weak and raspy, but cheery nonetheless. “Done! Come look!”

“Do you, darling?” Freddie smiled kindly and approached the bed. “Let me see... oh, this is very good!”

John smiled brightly at the praise. “I’ll finish it quickly,” he promised, but frowned when Freddie stopped his hand.

“Deaky, darling, why don’t you have a look who came visit?” Freddie pointed at Brian to make himself absolutely clear.

Brian’s body felt like frozen, and even the brain cooperated just very slowly. What was happening... what is this? This! 

Roger nudged him from behind and squeezed his hand. “Do you want to go?” he whispered. “We can go.”

“No,” Brian shook his head resolutely, and bit his lip before making two hesitant steps towards John, who now watched him with a polite interest.

“Hello, Deaks,” Brian mumbled. “I... came to see you.” His legs felt like jelly and threatened to collapse any moment.

“Who is that?” John turned to Freddie. “He looks sad.”

“That’s Brian, lovie,” it seemed Freddie got already numb to everything and just delt with it as it came, “the one you keep drawing. Look, this one.”

John touched his drawings in confusion, and a small wrinkle appeared on his forehead.  
Brian leaned in to see. The picture itself looked like a work of a five-year-old, several colourful stick figures standing around a table with another person on it. The last mentioned had familiar mane of curly hair and a face contorted in weirdly accurate pain. Brian winced when he realized what all the red around is supposed to represent – blood on the table, blood on the floor, blood on his own body...

“Shit...” 

“They’re all the same,” Freddie nodded glumly, “or similar. Is that...?”

“That’s how it happened,” Brian confirmed quietly, his eyes wide, and supressed a deep shiver. 

John’s fingers were running over the scene again and again. “Brian...,” he whimpered restlessly, “Brian, Brian, Brian, no, no, no, no... Melina! Melina!”

“I’m here, darling,” Freddie sat down on John’s bed and hugged him tightly. “It’s all well.”

Brian frowned. “Why does he call you Melina?”

To his surprise, it wasn’t Freddie who answered. “I can’t say his name,” John explained earnestly, “it’s a secret.”

“No, no, no, it’s not,” Brian quickly sat down as well, on the other edge and looked John straight in the eyes, “Deaky... it was a secret, back then,” he tapped on the drawing, “when that happened. We couldn’t speak about Freddie and Roger, you’re right, but now we can. It’s over, John, we’re out!”

John shook his head. “It’s a secret,” he repeated anxiously. “I can’t say. You won’t make me.”

For a moment they sat in silence, and Brian was trying to breathe, painfully aware of something heavy being built in his chest. Breathe it out, breathe it out... inhale... exhale...

Freddie kept stroking John’s hand, soft, sad smile on his face. “He’s been through a lot,” he whispered, “I’m trying to take it that way. Atkins says even this is a miracle, after all... he’d spent two years in one of those... dreadful things... drugged and asleep... and those people aren’t meant to wake up. No wonder you’re confused, my poor dear,” he gave John a soft kiss, which seemed to be appreciated, though John clearly didn’t follow the conversation. After a moment of tension, he started looking for his crayons.

“No, my dear, stay longer, talk to us,” Freddie stopped him.

John let out an unhappy noise, but obliged. Suddenly, he smiled brightly, as if he finally managed to form an idea.

“Brian!” he almost exclaimed and his eyes shined in happiness. “Brian!” Without any warning he leaped forward on the bed and Brian found himself with an armful of Deaky.

“Oh, Deaks... I...”

“You,” John stared right into his eyes, “You’re the best brother I’ve ever had.”

It seemed every Brian’s joy was meant to be short-lived. He sighed. “I’m not your brother, Deaks.”

That made John a bit confused, and the smile faltered. “Aren’t you... Oh,” his face lit up again, “you’re a sister now! ... Whatever you feel like, I support you. What’s your new name?”

“Still Brian. Listen, John, I... I can’t even say how sorry-”

John interrupted him. “You came to me... but, from Earth, you can’t travel that far. It can hurt the baby.”

“What baby?” Brian turned for help to Freddie, who only snickered and shrugged. “I can’t help you here, dear, Jim just became a mother of three last week. You’re not alone.”

Well, that was useful, Brian thought angrily. John leaned even closer to him and whispered: “You’re having a baby, Brian. I know, but it’s a secret, shhh... I gave you tiny socks last week.”

That was it. “Deaks...,” Brian said firmly, “I’m not pregnant. That’s not how anatomy works.”

John’s face went... blank, as if Brian just announced there were no more Christmas. His lower lip trembled.

“So, the butterflies ate it already!” he whimpered. “No, no, no...”

Brian frowned. “What?”

“The uterus, Brian! The butterflies ate your uterus! You’re hollow inside, and so am I.” With one anxious tug John rolled up his pyjama shirt to reveal his stomach. A huge, long, nasty-looking scar ran from his upper belly way down almost to his crotch. “The butterflies made me hollow,” he announced darkly.

“What butterflies?” Brian whispered, hypnotised by the scar. “What- Does it mean they took something? People from the Institute? What?”

“The butterflies!” John screamed and pushed Brian away. “Here, everywhere, butterflies, they’re all over me, they want to eat me now, I don’t want to-“ he let out an inarticulate wail and just kept on screaming.

Doctor Atkins ran into the room. With one quick glance he evaluated the situation, pushed Brian aside, opened one of John’s i.v. lines and injected something from pre-prepared shots laid on the nightstand.

In not even three seconds John wearily closed his eyes, and collapsed back in the pillow, sleeping soundly. 

Sudden silence thickened.

Brian nearly didn’t feel Roger’s arm around his shoulders, he could nothing but stare at John.  
John... now helpless and pliant like a ragdoll. Freddie gently tucked him in while doctor Atkins checked on the infusions.

“What...,” Brian rasped. Somehow John being awake kept all his emotions on the leash, but now... now... He tried to wipe his tears quickly, so no one else would see, but he felt himself spiralling out of control. “What... he...”

“What about we go back to the living room?” doctor Atkins suggested. “So you can have a rest? He may be not well, but neither are you.”

Brian’s glare predicted a gruesome death to anyone who’d try to take him from John, but when he spoke, his voice shook. “What- what did they take? Is it... can he live? If he needs, I-... I’d do anything-”

“That won’t be necessary,” doctor Atkins shook his head. “According to the documents, they harv- ehm, took several grafts from his bone marrow and... a kidney. Just one, though. He’ll be quick to recover... physically.”

Brian wasn’t sure if he felt a relief or not. “And the... this crazy? You... you can fix him, right?” he pleaded quietly. “He’s so strong, he’s stronger than anyone I’ve met, sure... tell me...”

The doctor sighed. “Surely, he is, but... I can’t say. We keep him on high doses of Institute’s tank-cocktail, if you forgive me the term. Slowly weaning him off is the only option, otherwise the body goes in shock and delirium with no chance of survival. I’m trying my best, but the danger still exists. This is a very fragile state.”

“And once he’s off the drugs... he’ll be the same as before, won’t he? Please! I’d do anything, I’d-”

“I don’t doubt that, however-”

“Please!”

“I cannot say, Brian,” Atkins interrupted him and ran his hand through his nearly non-existent hair. “Some of it is surely caused by the drugs but I fear... not all of it. Two years in a coma can easily create a brain damage beyond repair. And there are his own compensatory mechanisms working as well. Sometimes our minds deal with trauma by simply... shutting down everything they don’t need, to have a space for healing. The only thing we can do is to keep him safe, protected and taken care of, and once the drugs are gone... he can turn better, he can turn worse, to what extent... I don’t know. He needs time.”

“You don’t know!” Brian exploded. “What kind of a doctor are you?”

“A surgeon,” Atkins retorted. “A surgeon without any laboratory or imaging methods whatsoever. This is how things are, Brian, that’s why I recommended Roger not to take you here until we know.”

Roger huffed. “You try to stop him next time.”

Brian sighed, his own head in a cloud of eerie feeling. The world has become vague, dreamlike, less real, lacking in significance. He felt dizzy... and flying... Roger only barely managed to catch him before he fainted, saving Brian’s head from smashing against the floor.


	33. Funny How Head Is

It’s been a week since Brian went to visit John – and stayed. After John recovered from the effects of doctor’s anaesthetic, he categorically refused to let Brian anywhere out of his sight, threatening to break into another hysterical fit. Brian couldn’t say he minded all that much, if it weren’t for the fact John couldn’t bear to see him lie down on anything resembling a bed or a table. So... here they were, sharing Freddie’s bedroom while their host had to settle for a sofa, and Roger for everyday visits.

“Brian!”

It was very early morning, when Brian squirmed on his makeshift blanket nest on the floor. Sleepily, he looked around, his hair sticking in all directions.  
“Brian!” John whispered again, always an early riser. With a sigh, Brian considered asking doctor Atkins to raise John’s dose of sleeping pills, because his friend was able to shake him awake even five times per night to indulge him in colourful nutty stories, and, well, Brian was only human.

“Yeah, Deaks?” he mumbled. “Ouch, hey, don’t pull my hair, I’m awake!”

“Brian!” John hissed again, urgently. “Pictures!”

Brian groaned internally and reached over to hand John his papers and crayons. “Here you go, Deaks.”

Of course, he wasn’t mad at him, and even had to smile at the eagerness with which John accepted the items. Seriously speaking, Brian wouldn’t mind staying awake for days and nights if it were to help his dearest friend. Three days ago, doctor Atkins lowered the dose of Institute’s drugs, which made John increasingly teary and agitated, but now... Now, he seemed to fluctuate between two states, and Brian wasn’t sure which one he preferred. The disoriented but cheery haze, or the occasions when John suddenly stopped in his tracks, staring blankly as if he tried to catch an escaped thought. Brian wished to help, oh, so much, but experience taught him better to leave his friend alone in the moments like these. Several times he tried to talk to him and ask questions, but everything only resulted in a sharp swing into madness deeper than usual.

Even though John asked for crayons, he made only several crooked lines on the paper before throwing one of them against the door.

“John!” Brian chastised him and sat up. “What the hell.”

“Jim’s here again,” John frowned and threw another crayon, this time a blue one, “with Melina.”

This early? Indeed, Brian could hear muffled voices from the living room. Was this so important or... or did he spend a night?

“If you mind him, you know we can always talk to Freddie about it. He’d do anything for you, you know that,” Brian smiled, adding a small chuckle. “Looks like somebody’s jealous.”

John’s expression saddened as he glanced at the door again, and his brows furrowed in focus. Brian sighed and hoped it wasn’t that last joke that triggered this. His head hurt, almost permanently since he got reunited with John. Doctor Atkins insisted on taking repetitive blood samples, but never uttered even a hint of what suspicions he might have.  
Damn the man, Brian laid back on the floor, massaging his temples. He knew the doctor risked a lot by helping them and saved his life, but God, wasn’t it a pain in the arse. Brian was good, he told him that much, but Atkins refused to believe. 

If anything,... things were getting worse in a different department entirely. Namely – the Roger department.

“Sometimes I doubt you’re the crazy one, Deaks,” Brian mumbled and closed his eyes. The bed squeaked. 

“Brian?”

“Yeah, you heard me. I mean,” he continued with a sigh, “what is wrong with me? He gave me quite a clear answer the last time. He doesn’t want to have anything with me, and I understand, of course I do. I’ve been a big-headed, blind, and absolute idiot about it before, and that’s what earned me two years in Trident and you... you... I’ll never forgive myself what happened to you, Deaks, believe me. But what vexes me is - now we have a chance to start again, on a good side, as friends, and he’s been nothing short of incredible since we got back, and I... well, what do I do?”

He opened his eyes just to see grey eyes staring at him. “What do you do?” John whispered, utterly captivated. 

Brian huffed. “The same shit I did the last time, probably. I wish... I could just stop feeling it and you know I tried – and where that went – but it feels just so... ugh, I miss him when he’s not here and I can’t stand it when he’s close... Am I really that hopeless?”

John tilted his head and said nothing, which wouldn’t be unusual, but his eyes... For a moment Brian’s breath hitched, because John looked at him the way he always did, with mild, friendly exasperation.   
Then he threw another crayon, a green one, and hit right between Brian’s eyes.

“Ouch! Deaks!” 

John giggled. “Funny!”

“Yes, very funny,” Brian nodded wearily, “but what about you stop throwing this all over the room and rather draw a pretty picture? Or do you want me to read with you?”

“Your hair’s bouncy,” John smiled, and, in his eyes, there was already a plan how to use the last crayon. Brian quickly confiscated it. “They want to steal it,” John added, philosophically accepting his loss. “Your hair. But I won’t let them.”

Oh, here we go again. “That’s very nice of you,” Brian said warmly.

“Roger wants them,” John’s attention now focused on folding the empty papers in his lap, “he would come at night and take them, but I keep watch, every time you sleep.”

“You stay awake when I sleep?” Brian inquired. Maybe he’d really have to ask doctor to get John something extra.

John nodded. “Yes. I saw him watching, every time you look the other way, he watches, and he wants them. I see it. And I won’t let him. You keep your hair.”

“I will,” Brian promised, and it took a great strength not to roll his eyes. Poor John...

The voices in the living room were becoming louder and... was it just Brian’s overactive imagination or another one joined them?

Suddenly the door opened, and Brian’s heart jumped when the familiar blond head peeped in: 

“Good morning, sleepyheads,” Roger grinned, “I’ve got a little surprise, and- oh, you look terrible,” he raised an eyebrow. “Bad night?”

“Headache,” Brian replied rather caustically and made an attempt to smoothen his wild curls.

Roger chuckled. “That’s a long-lost battle, my friend. Besides...,” he hesitated a bit, and glanced away, “... I really like them this way.”

“You do?” surprised Brian asked for a reassurance, while John let out a half panicked choked sound.

It must’ve been a trick of light, there was no way Roger blushed. “Yeah...,” he mumbled, “so... get dressed and see you in ten? Jim’s making a breakfast for everyone and then I need to show you something. A present for you.”

“No scissors!” John exclaimed.

Roger gave him a kind, though a bit confused smile. “No scissors, Deaky, I promise.” And closed the door to let Brian enjoy some privacy.

 

“Can I ask you a question?”

Roger’s car was working its way through the heavy morning traffic and Brian honestly admired the blond’s ability to somehow drive even through this hell more than fifty miles per hour.

“No, I want you to be silent and never talk to me ever again,” Roger chuckled, clutching the stirring wheel, and flashed Brian with one of his smiles. “Sure, what’s up?”

“What’s between Freddie and Jim?” Brian decided not to beat around the bush. “Are they...? Because if they are, they should control themselves, at least in front of Deaks. Just because he’s... incapacitated... it doesn’t mean he’s without feelings.”

Roger sighed. “You really should ask Freddie about that, because honestly... I don’t know. They’re fond of each other, but Freddie likes to keep... this kind of things... for himself, especially after we... I mean I... ehm... Anyway, he wouldn’t manage John without Jim, that’s for sure, and especially with all those performances as he’s now... he... but I think I shouldn’t talk about it.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Talk about what?”

“Nothing, really it’s-” Two cars in the next line had to make a sharp turn to avoid a collision.

“Roger!” Brian exclaimed, his eyes wide. “Do you want to have us both killed?”

“What?” Roger protested and straightened the direction. “They were far!”

“Far my arse, and put your bloody glasses on at least when driving, I swear you LOOK GOOD!”

“THANK YOU!”

Their eyes quickly met before Roger turned his attention back on the road and Brian out of the window.

“Wait a second...,” he mumbled, “this road... it leads to Ridge Hill...”

Roger nodded. “Yes, it does.”

Brian turned to him once again, incredulously. “Roger Taylor, are you telling me... We’re not going back to the mines!”

 

That was exactly where they were going, and Brian couldn’t but have very mixed feelings about that. Roger parked quite far from the hill itself, so they had to walk quite a bit, the familiar place in front of them getting closer.

Alba was rising higher on the sky, and its light started to warm up the sand. Dry desert wind blew gently, ruffling the wide sleeves of Brian’s shirt.

“We’re not going uphill,” Roger explained when leading Brian on a path around the base, “I have no intentions to jump towards my death more than once in a lifetime.”

“Twice,” Brian corrected him.

“Hm?”

“The helicopter, remember? From the Ridge Hill’s cliff, and later the helicopter.”

“Oooh, yes,” Roger chuckled, “that one I almost forgot. You’ve...,” he kicked in the sand, “... you’ve been incredible there. I’ve never seen anything like it before... and after that, for the matter. You have that genius bibliophile look, so it’s easy to forget how scary you can actually-”

“I’d rather not be,” Brian mumbled. “It’s scaring not only others, but honestly, me as well.”

Roger nodded. “I know. But there’s nothing wrong about flying. Is it better or worse than driving a car?”

“Well...,” Brian thought about it, “... it’s really different. And I haven’t driven your kind of car, honestly...,” he smiled, “since I was sixteen. My father and I went to Interactive Technological Museum Park in Northumberland.”

Roger frowned. “Museum? You have cars like mine in a museum?” He seemed personally attacked.

“Yeah... something similar. Everybody’s using the hovercraft models. At least... they got popular some two years before I left. When I got to NASA, with my admission bonus I bought one for Chrissie. As an... well, apology.” 

“An apology for not going to war again, having yourself killed?” Roger sighed. “If you ever buy me a car, it better be for healthier reasons.”

“Such as?”

Roger looked up and shuffled his feet before giving Brian an irresistible smile. “Such as me being a genuine delight?”

Something in Brian’s chest warmed as he chuckled. “A car for that?”

“Not a car, then? What would you give me?”

“I would-“ in the moment Brian stopped, not knowing what to say. He didn’t want to flirt, or to be honest, he did want to, but he knew he couldn’t, god dammit, “- give...,” the wheels in his head ran at full speed, “...you my genuine gratitude.”

Roger’s blue eyes pierced right through him, and the blond seemed a bit uncomfortable himself. “Oh, yeah, I guess... that would do.”  
For an awkward moment they just stood in the sand, staring at each other.

“Uhm, well,” Brian mumbled after a while, desperately searching for a safe subject, “when’s Freddie’s next performance? How many did I miss since the one I saw? Two, three?”

“Two,” Roger answered immediately. “Heaven for everyone again, and Seven Seas of Rhye. That’s Freddie’s fantasy land, he wrote that song way before we even thought about singing in public.”

“We?” Brian repeated. “You’re singing too?”

Roger shrugged. “Well, yeah. I pre-record all the instruments, except for keyboards, that’s Freddie’s thing, so then it doesn’t matter who sings. Usually it’s him, but juggling the job and now Deaky... so, sometimes it’s me.”

Brian grinned. “In leotards?”

“Hell no!”

“So, what are you wearing? You can’t have them recognize you either.”

For some reason, Roger blushed in deep crimson. “Yeah...,” he mumbled, “I... wear a... wig and... some make-up, and...” The rest of the sentence was completely intelligible. 

Brian frowned. “What uniform?”

“A school uniform,” Roger repeated, and his face literally begged the desert to swallow him, “you know... we had to take the instruments from Central Childhood Centre, no adult in their right mind would ever play, so... I stole one of my sister’s uniforms to sneak in. And then I sort of... kept it.”

“You sing for people... in a schoolgirl uniform?” Brian’s eyes widened and he tried his hardest to keep a straight face, without much success though. “Jesus Christ, Roger!”

“What!” Roger snapped defensively. “It’s a perfect disguise! My voice’s high enough.”

“No doubts there. And...,” Brian paused, “... you said you stole the instruments?”

“Took me hours. And – here we are!” Roger went on his knees and started digging in the sand like a small dog. “I keep telling them to have a shovel here,” he mumbled, “but why would anyone bother?”

Brian blinked in surprise. Just under the cliff, exactly where they fell through the ground two years ago, Roger was slowly diffing out something that looked like... a small metal door to the ground.

Finally, the sand was cleared, and Roger knocked. The rhythm sounded like a code, and Brian just wanted to ask about it, when suddenly the door opened from the inside to reveal-

“Miami!” Brian gasped. “Is that you! What?”

It was him indeed, and the elderly hacker smiled in genuine delight. “Brian! I was hoping guys would bring you soon. Please, come in, come in, we’ve got lots of catching up to do!”  
Without a doubt, Brian thought when the hacker’s head disappeared, so he and Roger could climb down the narrow ladder to the underground. 

The familiar stale air and coolness embraced Brian right after his feet touched the ground. Roger handed him a flashlight and banged the door shut after them.

“The wind blows all the sand back,” he explained, “in a about ten minutes.”

Brian nodded, frowning. “Roger... why is this? What is this place?”

Miami chuckled. “Rog! You didn’t tell him!”

“Tell me what?”

“This,” Roger gestured all around, “is our new hideout. A secret base of the whole Queen rebellion. Covered by Miami’s newest permanent blind zone. Anyone in here is protected from the Institute’s eyes.” He tapped on the circuit under his skin. “So? What do you say?”

If he hoped for some dramatic reaction from Brian’s side, he had to be disappointed, because he got nothing but a soft, overwhelmed: “Oh.” 

Except for the door, the mine looked just like the last time, a hollow, inhospitable place. Brian didn’t mean to offend, but the general impression was rather anticlimactic.

Miami took out his own flashlight and tapped on Brian’s shoulder. “This way,” he pointed left, down the long corridor. Some twenty meters from them, the way had been interrupted by a new concrete wall with another door in it.

It was only after Miami unlocked the door with his keys and opened... only then Brian’s breath hitched, and eyes widened.  
The wide passage had been illuminated by a long row of hollow lamps powered from a big battery in the corner. Pushed to the walls, there were some tables, chairs and wide boards with lists and flowcharts. The corridor itself had been partitioned with tall sheets of fabric to make an impression of separate rooms. But the greatest surprise... were the people.

At least fifteen men and women sitting by the tables, leaning over the charts or chatting to others on the phone – they all looked up when Miami banged the door shut.

“Hey, everybody!” he raised his voice cheerily to get everyone’s attention. “We’ve got a rare company today!”

“That’s Brian May!” some woman exclaimed in excitement and jumped up from her table. “Brian May!”

“Brian! Is it really?”

“Brian May!”

“Brian!”

Immediately, the air was filled with applause and cheers which honestly shocked Brian to the core and made him stumble some two steps back. Roger caught him firmly. Blue eyes sparkled in poorly hidden pride, when all the rebels ran closer to have a proper look at the man from Earth. Brian got flooded by names, questions, he shook people’s hands left and right, absolutely taken aback by the situation.

“See?” Roger smiled. “You’re quite popular in our circles. This is Dom, you already met her-”

“It’s just so incredible we get to see you again,” the raven-haired woman assured Brian with a wide smile, “just hearing about everything you’ve achieved, so incredible!”

“Eh, why, thank you,” Brian mumbled and squeezed Roger’s hand some more.

“I’m Peter Hince,” some other man shoved Dom aside to get to Brian. “Is it true you spent a year and a half in space just to get here? All the way from Earth?”

“Yes, that’s actually -”

“And you survived Foster’s interrogation! I mean, I could never imagine-”

“Is it true you saved Roger by-“

Roger kept pushing Brian through the crowd. “Hey, hey, everybody, let the poor man breathe, hands off!”

After several more questions and a very confusing kiss on a cheek (Brian wasn’t sure who that was), Roger finally managed to manoeuvre him behind the first partition and turned right to a neighbouring corridor.

“Here we’ll have a bit more privacy,” Roger explained, smiling, “so... what do you think?”

“I’m... not sure,” Brian answered truthfully. “They all think I’m some kind of a hero.”

Roger stopped in his tracks and gave Brian a deep stare. “Brian... you are a hero.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Brian protested. “It all just sorts of... happened and now everybody acts like... like... I don’t know.”

“You’re a hero and an idiot, that’s what you are,” Roger sighed. “And come, it’s not far.”

He led him further down the narrow corridor, until they finally reached a carefully soundproofed room. Most of the place had been taken by a randomly assembled drum kit, keyboards, two chairs, and a writing desk overflowing with papers. Two guitars and a bass were delegated to the corner, and one had to jump over a snare drum to get to them. All the electronics necessary had been pushed under the table, ready to be assembled if needed.

Roger spread his arms with a grin. “Welcome to our humble shrine.” 

Brian had to take a moment, letting all sink in, before he whispered: “It’s a recording studio.” 

“Yep, this is the heart of our new rebellion,” Roger took one of the drumsticks and tapped a cymbal for an effect, “and in the beginning, there was actually your idea.”

“My idea?” Brian repeated, looking around not unlike Alice in Wonderland. “How?”

“Well, once you asked me how we’re supposed to defeat the Institute, just us, having no plan, no means and such. And you... you also said that revolutions always end up bloody.”

Brian nodded. “That’s true.”

“So, we thought, we need to bring as many people as possible over to our side without a fight, and if that happens – then Institute won’t have a choice but to surrender. But... we needed people to hear us before we make them listen. Now,” Roger smiled, “they hear us. And, as you could see, they’re starting to listen. We can do this. We can do this, I tell you.”

Brian’s heart fluttered with excitement. “Yes,” he breathed out, “this... this can work. Rog... this will work! You’re a genius!”

“Well,” Roger tried to look humble, “me and Freddie. Do you want to see our drafts? We’ve got some new songs and... you used to play, didn’t you?” 

Roger picked up several papers from the table and Brian nearly leaped to tear them from his hands.

“Hmm...,” he listed through the bundle, “... lots of love songs. Good ones.”

“They’re Freddie’s,” Roger commented over his shoulder, “this one... and this... this one is mine.”

“Hmm...,” Brian frowned.

“What? Not good?”

“No, no, all good, just... may I suggest you put this- “

“No, don’t change-”

“Rog?” Mary Austin walked out from behind the corner, preventing a bloodshed. “Hate to disturb you, guys, but they just brought her. You wanted to know.”

“Oh... great,” Roger nodded, but Brian noticed his smile faltered, “perfect. Your present, Brian.”

 

Brian felt a bit confused, but obediently he followed Mary out of the studio and back to the main corridor. Behind some more partitions, they entered a larger space with several simple beds, probably meant as a very basic medical unit.

Doctor Atkins was already there, tending to a patient – gaunt, red-haired woman with bright eyes which flickered nervously all around the strange place.

“Anita...?” Brian whispered. Roger’s hand left his, but, somehow, he didn’t even notice. He couldn’t believe this, this... this was incredible! Out of all the surprises of that day, her appearance was definitely the most welcome. “Anita... you... they saved you!”

“You asked for her,” Roger shrugged. “So... here she is.”

Anita’s face lit up with recognition. “Brian! I thought you were dead!” She tore herself from under doctor’s stethoscope and leaped straight to Brian’s arms. “You’re here! And I thought you were crazy talking about rebellion, but-”

Brian squeezed her protectively in his arms. “It’s all real,” he whispered, “and they won’t hurt you anymore, ever again. I promise.”

“Are you really from Earth then? That’s insane!” 

After a small pause, Brian chuckled. “Yes, I am. God, I can’t believe I got to see you again! I missed you so much!”

“And I you!” she beamed. “And I have to say, you look much better now, not dying and everything.”

“All thanks to Roger here,” Brian assured her, and loosened the embrace, still touching her shoulder, “without him we’d-“ with a frown, he realized that the spot where Roger stood just a minute ago, was empty. “Roger?” he called in confusion. “Roger?”

Roger was already striding back to the studio, his handsome face tight and angry. Whatever. He sat behind the drumkit and kicked into the bass drum. 

He knew what he was getting into by urging his fellow rebels to rescue Anita Dobson, after all, Brian made it perfectly clear. Roger wasn’t stupid, and in the two years of Queen people getting of DHA he learned quite a bit about relationships. It’s been two years. No reason to think Brian wouldn’t search somewhere else, especially... especially as it was his, Roger’s, fault he and Deaky ended up the way they did. She was much better for Brian, even a blind man could see it. Roger had his chance and he blew it, big time. He knew that much. Surely. It’s smarter to just get out of the way and be a friend though... god, how that pissed him off. He wanted... something. Brian. He wasn’t sure what or how to get it, but he wanted it, and... No, no reason to think in vain. 

“Roger?”

“WHAT!”

Doctor Atkins frowned in the doorway. “If you’re done sulking, I need to talk to you about Brian. It’s serious and I’d rather... consult it before we present the... issue to him, so I’d like to use the moment he’s occupied with my new patient.”

Roger stared blankly at the doctor, as if time stopped. Brian... “What is it?” he whispered. Oh, God, please, be alright, be alright, please...

“As you know,” the doctor started and sat down on the writing desk, “during the last week I’ve been taking Brian’s blood samples to run them through the lab in our hospital.   
And...”

“And?” Roger jumped down from the stool. “And what? Is he sick, is he...”

“I...,” Atkins hesitated, “... I won’t pretend I have vast experiences with less common medications-”

“Get on with it for fuck’s sake!” Roger snapped. “What is wrong with him?”

“In his blood, I found traces of Clazolam,” doctor explained. “It’s a drug from wider group of narcotics, though... this one is quite unique in its effects. Not for wider medical use.”

“I think...,” Roger frowned. I heard the name somewhere, but... what does it do?”

“It makes the user docile and unresisting, but that’s not what I’m most concerned about. Use of Clazolam causes very effective antegrade amnesia. And considering I found it in his blood this week... he must’ve been using it for months.”

Roger paused in his tracks, quickly thinking. “So... you’re saying the Institute drugged him? To make him forget? But he remembers, he’d tell me if-”

“He doesn’t have to realize it,” Atkins interrupted him. “And most probably he doesn’t. Five milligrams of Clazolam every morning prevents creation of new neuronal synapses – the long-term memory. As long as they kept him influenced, I imagine...”

“... they could use him for anything they wanted,” Roger finished weakly, “and he wouldn’t know.”

“He wouldn’t remember anything for more than four, maybe five hours,” the doctor confirmed. 

“And you said... he had used it for months.”

“Most probably, yes.”

Roger’s nervous fingers tapped a soft rhythm on the cymbal. “So, there can be months we know nothing about. What he knows nothing about... He could’ve been doing anything! They... why did they do it, what did they want from him?”

Atkins sighed. “All good questions. I fear Brian can’t give us the answer even if he wanted to.”

“God dammit...,” Roger huffed and ran his fingers over his face, “... just... just when I thought we’re out. The Institute wouldn’t bother with everyday Clazolam without some serious reason. This stinks, Atkins. If they wanted information, they would’ve just tortured him, as they did. If they wanted him out of the way, they’d kill him. If they wanted him alive and out of the way, that’s what Trident is for. I...,” he frowned, “there’s something I don’t understand. There’s something overly wicked in this, even for the RISUGI standards. Why would they bother with making Brian forget? It’s not like they knew we’d save him.”

The doctor sighed and leaned against the cold wall. “It’s your job to solve this riddle, guys, I gave you all I know. The question is though... do we tell him? Should I speak as his doctor, with all he lived through, we shouldn’t put another strain on him. But on the other hand...”

Roger slowly nodded. “On the other hand, it’s his head, his memory, and he deserves to know. We need to tell Brian.”

“Tell me what?”

Brian stood in the door, with Anita on his arm and puzzled expression in his eyes.


	34. Bring Back That Lover Boy

Brian hunched and hid his face in his hands. He didn’t want to listen, he didn’t want to be there, if only it was possible to disappear! Someone was touching his back, stroking it gently, and it helped a bit.

“... so, the main question is clear,” doctor Atkins concluded with an air of finality, “and it is why did they do it.”

From the studio they had moved back to the infirmary. Brian was sitting on one of the camp beds, Roger and Anita by his side.   
Others had come as well. Freddie, face still smudged with make-up, and Kash, today’s designated escape driver, arrived as soon as they could. The other twenty were simply.... there, hungrily taking in every word, and throwing around not very subtle nervous glances. Brian kind of minded, but he didn’t dare to ask them to leave. After all, this was a matter of the whole rebellion, not just him.

It felt personal, though... Brian shivered. The whole poorly-lit underground felt claustrophobic, walls getting closer, people crowding him. No way to escape the stares, the whispers. Something was wrong with him, wrong in the head, seriously wrong. As per usual.

Nobody dared to speak. Somehow, the silence made it even worse.

Brian licked his dry lips and cleared his throat, before he managed to ask: “Could... could this have any other explanation?” His eyes almost begged for a positive answer when he looked at the doctor. 

Doctor Atkins shook his head. “I can’t think of any.”

“Could the tests be incorrect,” Brian desperately insisted, “or... Because I was in Trident, the whole time, there isn’t any blank window or...” He swallowed as the headache slowly appeared yet again. He had to push against his forehead to lessen those painful throbs. “This isn’t true,” he mumbled, his panic rising, “they didn’t, they couldn’t, I... I would know!”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Atkins answered, briefly but kindly. Despite the calm professionalism, there was a certain compassion behind his words.

“It’s my head!” Brian snapped. “My memory! I would know!”

Roger sighed. “Bri-”

“Shut up!”

Quickly, the blond retreated, and Brian felt terrible right after he let the words out of his mouth. People around whispered.

“Brian,” Atkins repeated sharply, his eyes focused and stern, “please, calm down. I’ll need you to do something. Now.”

Brian looked up. “What?”

“You need to return to that day when you got arrested, two years ago. Do you remember that day?”

“Yes... I... yes, I do, but,” Brian squirmed in discomfort and closed his eyes shut, “no, I don’t want to, I can’t-”

“Shhh,” Roger took his hand and glared at the doctor.

“So, you remember how they got you,” Atkins continued, unphased by the murderous blue eyes, “am I right?”

Brian nodded. “Yes, I remember that,” his voice sounded strangely distant, as he resigned and just did what Atkins asked. “I... it was Prenter, he was there. They got Deaky first and when I wanted to run to him, Prenter shot me, I fell and he... kicked me, my stomach, my face... then the soldiers dragged us away, two separate cars, and I haven’t seen him until later.”

Atkins nodded. “I understand. Do you know what happened after that?”

“Yes,” Brian swallowed, “they took me to RISUGI and... and... do I have to...?”

“No, it’s alright,” doctor quickly assured him. “But do you see it in your head? Do you remember every moment?”

The twitch in Brian’s face was enough of an answer. So long... and he could still feel it under his skin, the pain, the anger, the humiliation, the fear... stupid. Useless. Helpless. A rag, a toy... 

New whispers rustled through the crowd when several tears ran down his face. Roger quickly tapped them away with a handkerchief, and Brian fondly leaned into that touch. For less than a second, but one takes what one can get.

“And then?” Atkins continued mercilessly. “After the... events?”

“You mean torture?” Roger snapped and got up. “At least call it for what it was. They bloody tortured him, and all you do is trying to bring it back, what the actual-”

“Then Foster ordered to take Deaky away,” Brian interrupted him mechanically. “And to have me executed. There were others, one of them gave me a shot of sorts, I thought... that was it, but then...”

“Then?” Atkins repeated, encouraging him to continue. 

“I woke up again. In some small room. Like a cell, but no bars, normal door,” Brian bit his lip, “I... was drowsy, couldn’t get up much. I waited for a long time, and then Prenter returned – and brought Reid with him.”

“Reid?” Freddie interrupted his silence for the first time. “John Reid was in your cell?”

Brian nodded. “He was actually nice,” he admitted, “he let me drink something... sweet... and said he would need me to do something for him. Not for the Institute, just... just him. That only he and Prenter knew I was there, I was the only one who could help and if I did... he’d give me a reward.”

“Reward?” Roger pressed his hand firmer. “What kind of reward? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t think it was... that important,” Brian mumbled, “because... he left and Prenter shoved something... a pill of sorts... in my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but he was stronger and made me swallow it. And then they took me straight to the Trident. You see?” he looked up. “No blank windows, no nothing. At the end Reid didn’t even want anything – or maybe he would if you hadn’t rescued me.”

Doctor Atkins silently nodded. “I see. It really seems-”

“Wait!” unexpected voice interrupted him. Anita. “How long it is since he got arrested?”

“Two years,” Roger answered stiffly. “And?”

“I’m sure he wasn’t in Trident for two years,” she explained, when all eyes turned to her. “It was hard to keep track of time, but I knew him for months, certainly not two years.”

“It must’ve been Clazolam,” Atkins gave her a grateful nod, “the pill from Prenter. They’ve been giving you one every day since then. Whatever it was Reid asked, Brian... you did it. And they shifted you to rot in Trident afterwards.”

Brian shook his head violently. “No!”

“Brian-”

“But what?” he gasped in tears and his face twitched with another fit of headache as he tried to focus on that time, those memories. “I don’t... don’t know what...”

People around started to mutter to one another, and the overall noise was getting up, echoing in the hallway. Brian sobbed and tried to hide his pain, his tears, his confusion, but he felt like naked, displayed and stripped from everything. A year of his life, at least, taken, used and stolen. His breathing quickened and panic emerged ready to take control. No, no, no!

“And OUT!” Roger suddenly snapped and jumped up. “Out, all of you! You’ve seen enough, this is a private matter. Out!”

With much displeased grumbling the rebels cleared the infirmary, leaving only Brian, Roger, doctor Atkins, Freddie, Miami, Kash and Anita. Still too many people, but better than nothing.

“Is there anything that can be done?” Freddie asked quietly and glanced over Brian with tenderness and compassion. “An antidote or something like that? This is Reid we’re talking about, and clearly up to something. Something not even people in the Institute know! If we find out-”

“Fred!” Roger quickly gestured towards Brian. “Shut up!”

Surprisingly, doctor Atkins didn’t dismiss the idea. He seemed to be thinking. 

“There could be... a certain way,” he said slowly. “But I’m not sure-”

“What way?” Brian perked up a bit. “Is there?”

The doctor didn’t seem overly happy. “Memory... is a really complicated thing,” he said simply, “there are millions of ways how we receive and store all the information we get, including the ones we create ourselves. Some say our brain actually contains everything we’ve ever seen, but in a form that’s not accessible to us. It’s the most complicated structure in the universe, so I don’t believe something as simple as Clazolam can influence all the memory systems.”

They all looked at each other, and Roger frowned. “So, you’re saying all the memories are still in there somewhere, just inaccessible?”

“It’s just a speculation, but yes, that’s what I believe.”

To be honest, Brian wasn’t happy to hear that. The more he tried to go back, and think about that time lost, the more his head hurt, sending painful white flashes. If anybody offered to smack him unconscious with a hammer, he’d let him with a smile. Amnesia drugs, god. What comes next? Brian had always been proud of his mind and memory. Now... what is there now for someone who can’t trust even his own head?

“There is...,” Atkins hesitated, “... there is a drug that could perhaps help our matters. Nootropic and cognitive enhancer. If we give Brian large enough doses for a time, he might bring back the memories... and remember.”

Something in doctor's tone made Roger squint his eyes with suspicion. “But the catch is...?” 

The doctor sighed. “It’s very... unspecific. It can’t work just on the things we want, nothing can. When I say it will bring back memories – I mean all of them. Or just some, and I can’t guarantee which ones. It’s like a stirring spoon for the mind, mixing the consciousness and unconscious. Something goes down, something goes up, forgetting what’s learned and recalling what’s hidden, supressed, or safely forgotten. And no one can tell what we end up with, the confusion and trauma created could be... irreparable. Depression, mania, hallucinations, dementia, schizophrenia... Anything could happen, with supressed memories suddenly back in the spotlight, re-lived. The mind will no longer be under control, especially if there were any traumatic events in the past already. I’m not saying that’s what will happen, but the risk is considerable. Surely it can beat the effects of Clazolam, but...”

His voice slowly disappeared into silence, leaving everybody stunned in thought.

Roger was the first one to speak. “Hell NO!” 

Protectively, he touched Brian’s shoulder, and recalled everything Brian had ever told him about his past, the sadness, fears and horrors. He knew by heart the screams waking him up at night. Hell no.

Atkins shrugged. “It’s our only chance.”

Freddie glanced to Brian, who was sitting still, his eyes wide and blank. He realized what would it mean for him. But...

“If Reid really plots something under Institute’s nose,” Miami said quietly, “it might help us a great deal, perhaps even make the revolution finally happen. Nobody likes a leader plotting his own agenda in such secrecy he needs to use memory erasers on those working for him.”

Brian stayed silent, and hugged his middle so firmly it hurt. He knew what he had to do. Accept Atkins’ plan and hope it would work. The revolution will get a weapon they couldn’t even dream of. And everything he’d ever done wrong, John, everything... will be redeemed. 

“I’ll do it,” he whispered and ignored his common sense’s helpless screaming. “I’ll take it and... try to remember.” 

“No!” Roger exclaimed and shook him. “Don’t you bloody dare!”

“It’s the only way, Rog!” Brian snapped, too tired to be diplomatic. And, to be honest, scared shitless of what he agreed to. “This is a way how I can be finally useful to this all!” He gestured around. “Not just a burden nobody asked for! If I get depressed, maniacal or downright crazy, who cares? The Institute would be over with, Miami and John would no longer have to hide, and everything... everything...”

Roger’s face looked like a nuclear bomb few seconds from exploding. He spoke quietly. “Who cares? WHO CARES?” That, he screamed, and the angry voice echoed through the corridors. “You damn, hopeless, curly-haired space-weirdo,” he fumed, “I care! And I bloody care more than you can even comprehend. Do whatever you choose to, do whatever you please, but I warn you – if you dare to swallow that damn pill, I’ll shove my hand down your throat, or up your arse for the matter, to get it out! If you think I’ll just sit back and watch you destroy yourself for some greater good, you are mistaken, mister, because fuck the revolution, and the Institute can stay put for another century or two for all I care, as long as you’re alright. Nothing is worth losing you, any part that makes you yourself, do you hear me? Nothing! So yes, I fucking care, even should I be the only one!” Roger was red in the face, breathing heavily. Then, he got silent, insecurity slowly crawling in. 

Brian did... nothing, only stared, frozen in time and space. Something inside him was crumbling down with a deafening noise, breaking into thousands of tiny shards.  
He felt cold, cold and tiny. 

“Roger...,” he uttered quietly, trying to hide the tears in his voice. 

“.... Brian?”

All the people around didn’t even need to exist, they made a silent background, just several set pieces with stares jumping between the two.

Brian swallowed, but his throat still felt dry. Roger was standing close, so close he could smell the fresh clothes and see the smooth hands of a dentist callused from the past year of everyday drumming.

“... thank you.”

 

“So, what now?” Brian asked blankly and sat down at the edge of a table filled with notes. They were back in the studio, this time just the two of them, alone.

“Now, you’re going to drink this,” Roger fumbled in his bag and took out a small bottle of water, “and stop having stupid ideas.”

“The plan...” Brian mumbled and accepted the drink.

“The plan wasn’t even a plan. Just an idea and a rubbish one,” Roger emphasized, running his hand through his hair, and gave Brian a look. “I just wonder...”

“Yes?”

“Do you honestly think so low about yourself?” Roger’s face was honest and uncomprehending. “You know you’re no burden to me, to anyone, right? You saw the welcome here, and I... I’m really... glad to have you back.”

“You’re glad?” Brian repeated quietly. “Glad you could risk your life to save me from Trident? Glad you could spend weeks babying me around when I was too big of a mess to even wash myself? Glad you have me stuck with you after all that happened between us? You don’t have to pretend. What happened to me had been my fault, and my fault only, and I deserve all the consequences.”

“I don’t remember you throwing yourself on the street, I pushed you away.”

“I wanted to go.”

“But you wouldn’t want to if it weren’t for me being... being...,” Roger’s fingers ran over the snare drum, “... being what I was to you.” He looked away.

Brian watched him for a short moment, taming his emotions, so when he spoke, it sounded level-headed. 

“That’s how things between people are sometimes,” he said quietly, “feelings can go unreciprocated and you were right to stop me when I made you uncomfortable. I can... live with that, you know.”

“You’re wrong,” Roger stared over Brian’s shoulder, dropping his gaze, “in one thing. It wasn’t... unreciprocated. There was nothing, nothing I wanted more than to be with you, I wanted it so much it hurt... and it freaked me out. And the only thing I could think of was that if I allowed myself to get even closer to you, and then something happened, I wouldn’t be able to bear it. I was safe my whole life, and I would’ve given anything for it to stay that way. But then... you left, and I thought you dead. That I lost you. And it hurt,” Roger shivered at the memory, swallowing a sob, “it hurt something terrible. Every morning I woke up and realized what happened all over again. God knows how I managed not to jump out of my window.”

“Roger!” Brian’s eyes widened. “You-”

“Surprised?” Roger snapped tearily. “You’re not the only one to have feelings, you know? And believe me, after all that, every hour I spend with you is thousand times worth the risk. I’ve been through this, I’ve been without you. So now, when you’re here again, I want you with me. In any shape or form, damaged, helpless or searching for new creative ways how to get yourself hurt. But... I understand that... I haven’t been there when you needed me... so you probably prefer those who were.”

Brian frowned. “Rog... what are you talking about?”

“Anita Dobson,” Roger specified, frowning, “and I mean, I completely understand, you’ll be very happy, she seems like a great person, and-”

“She is,” Brian agreed hesitantly, “a great person. But... what does she have to do with anything?”

Roger blinked. “You... you love her.”

Brian let the moment pass, just staring at Roger. “I suppose...,” he mumbled in a mild confusion, “we could be happy... But the one thing that helped me through Trident... wasn’t her but... you. Every evening, I... imagined you standing in front of me, cheering me up and telling me I could do it, day by day... And I wanted to make you proud, so... I tried my best.”

“Are you actually kidding me right now,” Roger looked up and their eyes met. “You...”

Brian glanced away shyly. “For me it never changed, Rog. If anything, I think I want you thousand times more than before. You, only you.”

Roger’s breath hitched when he reached out to touch Brian’s cheek. He had been touching him before, a lot, they’ve been sharing a bed and, hell, he nursed him after Trident, which included careful inspection of every part of Brian’s anatomy, but now... it felt different. Somehow. As if their bodies were charged with electricity.

“I wish... we could go back in time again,” Brian mumbled, closing his eyes at the coy touch, “we could’ve had... everything.”

“We still can,” Roger insisted, “I promise I’ll do-”

“It’s not about you, Rog, you’re... perfect, but...,” once again he seemed close to tears, “but I can’t... I feel I can’t have you... touch me in that way. Not yet.”

Roger frowned in worry. “How come?”

It took some time for him to answer, and Roger could only sense the terrible internal battle happening in front if him. 

Brian slowly covered his face. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled through his fingers, “so... sorry. It’s just...”

“Just what?” Roger asked softly, and his voice slightly echoed. “Please, tell me.”

“When they torture you...,” Brian let his hands down again and took Roger’s fingers in his, “... it’s more than just the pain. They... hurt me. A lot. But they also took... something... from me. Some part of me, the one connected to self, to being human. It’s... dignity. During the time in RISUGI and even more so in Trident, I was... in pain, hungry, dirty and... worthless. And all the humanity I felt, it shrank into my own body, the only thing truly mine I had left, so every time they beat me or kicked me, they attacked my whole world, everything I had. But then, one day...,” Brian swallowed, “I don’t even remember why the guard hit me, but I... hit him back. They trashed me afterwards, sure, but I hit him,” his voice blinked with a vengeful spark. “They wanted to break me, but that day, I took myself back. That’s when I started to dream about you once again, and until my arm got too bad... I was my own most guarded property. But... even though I’m out... once you’re hurt this way, I fear... it might be...,” his eyes glistened with tears, “... I don’t know if I actually... can let anyone in, both body and soul, it’s too much, no matter that I want to. I really want to, Roger, and I can try, but... maybe you’d be better off to try elsewhere, because... it might never happen, and I can’t have you wait like that.”

“God...,” Roger whispered, “Bri... I swear, I can wait. Weeks, years, forever. I’ve never wanted anyone but you, I’ve never been with anyone, not really, I don't want anyone else. I waited so long, my whole life, so... I’ll just keep up the routine. I love you,” he confessed, “and I want you, in any way you allow me to have you.”

“I love you too,” Brian hesitated and then leaned forward to press a kiss on Roger’s soft lips. It tasted sweet.

For a short moment, Roger just relished in the sensation, but then he let go of Brian and crawled over his drum kit to the back corner.

“Roger?” Brian stretched his neck, hoping to see. “What are you doing?”

“When you agreed to Atkins’ stupid idea,” Roger explained and from behind the kit, he dragged a guitar, “you said you wanted to be useful. So that’s what I’m going to do – make you useful. You said you played, so,” he put the instrument in Brian’s stunned hands, “this is yours now. I can’t do everything around here anymore.”

Brian studied it. Despite few minor differences, it seemed to be very similar to the one he used to have on Earth. Carefully, he ran his long fingers over the strings, and his heart swelled with warmth. Without even realizing, he smiled.

“I know,” Roger said, returning the grin, “that you said you might never heal. But I believe that you will. And I’m never wrong.”

“Oh, of course,” Brian chuckled and strummed a chord to test the instrument, “that’s your significant feature. But...,” his face tensed a bit, “what about Reid? And the... time lost?”

“I mean what I said, Reid can go to hell, and plot his little schemes,” Roger frowned. “We aren’t that desperate to need it more than your sanity. Especially if you’re any good as a guitarist.”

“I am good!” Brian huffed.

Roger squinted his eyes, when he slipped behind the drums. “Well,” teasingly, he twirled a drumstick in his hand, “prove it, love.”

 

Freddie walked home, alone but smiling. It had been a long and tumultuous day, but the show had been a success, and though the revelation about Brian certainly was a reason for worry, after he spent the afternoon listening to the sound of drums and guitar behind the door of the studio, Freddie concluded that everything might be alright. He was an optimist by nature, after all.

When passing the last corner, he sped up, impatient to be home. Alba on the sky got slowly replaced by Almira and he didn’t want to keep John waiting. Freddie sighed. He couldn’t understand, and probably never will understand, why so many things happened, or keep on happening. Is it fate? Bad luck? He never considered himself a philosopher, in times of crisis he gladly ran into his land of fantasies instead of searching for a rational explanation. Sometimes, it had been for the best.

Softly, he started to hum a song he wrote a long time ago, right after Deaky... had left. He wasn’t one to hold grudges and couldn’t make himself to blame anyone for the avalanche that dragged his darling away but... but... will he ever come back? Really, truly back, the way Freddie remembered and loved?

Love of my life, you've hurt me. You've broken my heart and now you leave me, love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me, because you don't know what it means to me...

 

“I’m home!” he called, closing the door.

Jim got up from the sofa with a smile. “I thought they already forgot you under the ground.”

Freddie gasped. “Darling, they wouldn’t dare! I just wanted to walk,” he admitted, “to... clear my head a bit. How is he?”

Jim glanced to the bedroom door. “I forced some dinner in him and then he barricaded himself in the room.”

“Barricaded?”

“I think there’s a chair under the door handle,” Jim specified.

Freddie sighed and walked over to the bedroom. There was a small rustle behind the door.

“Deaky, darling!” he knocked on the door, speaking loud but calmly. “I’m back, what about you come out? Everything’s alright, I promise.”

Both Freddie and Jim held their breaths for few seconds, until they could hear a quiet sound of a piece of furniture being dragged over the floor.  
Then the door opened, and Freddie had to smile, his heart melting. John’s legs still felt a bit wobbly after such a long time of not using them, and right now, with his anxious eyes and oversized pyjamas, he looked like a new-born gazelle.

“Here you are, darling,” Freddie smiled and made several steps back. “Will you walk to me, what do you say?”

John glanced over the room, leaning against the doorframe. “Brian?” he asked quietly.

“He’s with Roger,” Freddie replied immediately and reached out, encouraging John to come closer, “playing music.” The information didn’t seem to have effect, so he added: “Brian is happy.”

John nodded. “Alright...” Very slowly, he let go of the door, and made several quick, tottering steps before he collapsed in Freddie’s arms.

“Here you are, darling,” Freddie caressed his short hair and softly kissed his cheek, “that’s how I like it.”

Jim smiled, watching the two. “I should go,” he announced, “will you handle it from here?”

Freddie nodded. “We will. Thank you for today.”

“Don’t mention it. By the way,” he pointed to the kitchen, “there’s your dinner under the lid, just heat it up.”

John let out a quiet sound, but Freddie smiled. “You’re a dear. Good night, Jim.”

“Good night, Freddie,” already at the door, Jim threw one last glance over the room, “and don’t forget to take care of yourself as well.”

“Just when you started to be fun,” Freddie grumbled. “Good night.”

Jim chuckled and closed behind him.

John was staring at he door until the sound of steps vanished, and then clung to Freddie closer, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Oh, darling...,” Freddie mumbled and sat both John and himself down on the sofa, “... what are we going to do with ourselves... God, I’m so tired...”

John only tilted him head, hesitant. He could see Freddie was worried and didn’t like it one bit. 

“Freddie?” he peeped nervously.

“... and I just wish everything- ,” suddenly, Freddie’s breath hitched, “- darling, what did you just call me?”

John squirmed, but then he leaned forward and gave Freddie a soft peck on a cheek. “Freddie,” he repeated, pulling his lover into even tighter hug, as if he never wanted to let go, ever, ever again.


	35. Somebody to Strum

“Brian?” Miami appeared in the door of the studio. Just in time to see the guitarist sucking on his finger to cool a new blister. “What the hell are you doing?”

Reflexively, Brian grabbed his instrument even tighter and glared. “Yes?”

The old hacker only sighed. “Just here to tell you - Roger called. He finished on the Cardan Square and is heading here. He’s alright.”

Brian nodded in relief. The thought of his brand-new boyfriend being chased by Foster’s soldiers never failed to make him queasy.

“And when he comes,” Miami continued, crossing his arms, “should I tell him you haven’t taken a break for the last twelve hours, or you do it?”

“I haven’t played for the last four years,” Brian objected. His fingers had lost their dexterity and calluses, but Brian Harold May was anything but a quitter, and would rather watch his hands bleed than take it easy. “I need some time to get back into it and-”

“When is the last time you’ve eaten?”

Brian huffed and mumbled something.

“Excuse me?”

“Yesterday dinner,” he repeated a bit louder. It was the last time he saw Roger, coincidentally. 

The week had been a time of frantic activity, and to Brian’s and Roger’s irritation it seemed to pull them apart way more than either would like. Freddie insisted on spending every free moment with John, which left all the preparations for the upcoming shows to Roger. True, “Lizzie”, loved performing, and genuinely adored the adrenaline of the post-show escapes, but together with his duties at work, because yes, teeth won’t fix themselves, there was very little time left.

Miami sighed. “Right. With me, now.”

“But Roger-”

“Won’t be here for another hour,” the old hacker walked over the room and simply grabbed Brian’s forearm, dragging him towards the door. He didn’t even try to take the guitar   
away, they simply took it with.

In hindsight, yes, Brian might have been a bit hungry, so when Miami sat him down in the infirmary and pushed a hot bowl of alga in his hands, he limited protests to the necessary minimum. Miami didn’t even bother to answer.  
There was actually another reason for these long guitar sessions with no sleep and rarely any food. When he got tired, Brian noticed, his mind began to fly, hazily floating in between memories. Yes, he promised Roger no pills, but this way... Could he... remember? His own inability to do so drew Brian crazy.  
The hot food and a sit down felt nice, he had to admit, struggling to keep his weary eyes open. He might just take a nap, right? Right?  
With a sigh, Miami took the empty bowl out of the sleeping guitarist’s hands and gently pushed him to lie down on the camp bed.

 

The first thing that brought him back to consciousness was a soft touch of someone’s lips on his cheek. 

“Brian,” voice whispered, “wake up, sleepy head.”

Not really wanting to get out of the warm haze, Brian blindly reached out to pull Roger closer.

“I’m not sleeping,” he mumbled.

“Sure, you’re not,” Roger teased, “I guess it’s called deep thinking? Come on, Freddie decided to bring John today, so...”

Brian sat up so fast he nearly knocked Roger out. Several dark spots danced in front of him. “Freddie’s bringing John? Here?” his eyes widened.

“Here,” Roger nodded, and added another timid kiss on Brian’s forehead. So far, they never got further than that. “And as for you,” he quipped, “welcome to the land of the living.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Brian repeated, trying to fix his curls, “and what does Freddie even think, bringing John? He just got used to the flat, all this, different place, different people, it can hurt him, what is he thinking?”

Only now he took a better look at Roger and couldn’t hide a grin. Apparently, the blond dentist had hurried as fast as he could to the mines, judging by the fact he was still dressed in a schoolgirl uniform and a long-haired wig, blue eyes made at least five times bigger by a magic of shadows and mascara.

“Did you miss me?” Brian decided to drop the John issue for at least a while to use the little time alone he and Roger were given. “At least a bit?”

Roger tilted his head and took Brian’s hand, noticing the tortured fingertips. “Could be,” he conceded and started pressing soft kisses on each, “a little bit. What do you think,” he cheeked, “did I miss you just before the show, when Miami let the beat play out of speakers? Or when I got in front of all those people, wishing you’d be among them to watch?”

“Next time I can watch,” Brian smiled and pressed himself closer. He could feel Roger’s quickened pulse and breaths becoming shallow. How can this little do so much... 

“Would you like me to watch?”

“Oh, yeah...,” Roger breathed and couldn’t but grind against his boyfriend, “I want your eyes on me.”

“I wouldn’t dare to look anywhere else,” Brian promised, leaning against Roger’s ear, “and then...”

“After the show... would you kiss me?”

“That I would.”

“How?”

Brian answered by example, and his fingers brushed through the blonde hair while he dove into the deep kiss. Roger mewled in excitement and ran his hands over Brian’s sides all the way to the shoulders, and pushed him back on the bed, crawling over him.

Brian’s breath hitched. “Roger...”

Roger silenced him with another kiss, more urgent, wilder, hungrier, and suddenly, Brian was trapped. He tried to relax, calm down, but no matter and-

“No! Please, stop, no, stop!”

Roger was down in a second, drawing away, wide-eyed and worried. Brian tried to slowly breathe in...and out... and in... and out...

“I’m so sorry, Brian, really, I... don’t know what came into me-”

“It’s not your fault,” Brian shook his head resolutely and rather looked down. He felt utterly and completely mortified. He wanted to, he really wanted to, hell, he’d fuck Roger like there was no tomorrow if he could, but he couldn’t ... God! Why! Maybe if he forced himself, after all, he doesn’t have to enjoy it, but Roger-

“This...,” Roger mumbled shakily, touching his lips, “this was the first time you kissed me this way... I mean... the first time it felt good. I’m so sorry...”

Now Brian felt even worse, but before he could utter a word, the air resonated with a cheery voice.

“Good afternoon, my darlings!” 

Among the rebels rose the already familiar wave of an excited chatter.

“Freddie’s here,” Roger mumbled. “Do you need to be alone or- “

“I can manage,” Brian assured him, and in that very moment Freddie walked into the infirmary with silent John on his arm, and doctor Atkins in their track.

Without saying a word, Freddie beelined for the camp bed and collapsed right next to Brian, who barely managed to escape being crushed by approximately 70 kilograms of Mercury.

“God, I’m tired,” Freddie mumbled and ran his hand dramatically over his face. “Wake me up in two days, be so good.”

Brian chuckled. “Well, at least get your own bed, this one is mine.”

“Mhh, nah, I’m good in your bed.”

Roger gasped. “No, you’re NOT, Fred, get out of there!”

John quietly watched the whole exchange, then walked over to Brian and tugged on his sleeve. The guitarist stood up immediately.

“What is it, Deaks? Everything alright?”

“Talk?” John peeped quietly.

Without further ado, Brian let himself be dragged out of the infirmary further along the corridor leading to the studio.

“Freddie!” John blurted out and accompanied it with an angry gesture. 

“He’s taking a very nice care of you,” Brian smiled, “you look better and better. I’m sorry I’m not sleeping in your room anymore-”

John hissed and waved his hand. He seemed impatient. “I’m a baby!” he exclaimed.

Brian frowned in confusion and the gears in his head got running. What was this? Some another crazy episode? Does this thing have relapses? Did Atkins increase the medication again?

John was biting his lip and his face turned redder, he seemed almost close to tears.

“Deaky...,” Brian whispered gently, “it’s alright, everything-”

“For Freddie I’m a baby!” John snapped, his voice shaking with helpless fury. “My head, all words, in my head, but out, can’t, can’t...”

“You mean you can make sentence in your head, but not say it?” Brian guessed quickly and was rewarded by a furious nodding. “That’s alright, Deaks, I understand,” with a relief, he watched some of the tension disappear from John’s face, “it must be really infuriating, but you made such an amazing progress since they got you out, honestly, I...,” Brian hesitated, “... I missed you a great deal.”

John looked up with a sigh. “Missed you too. I... I...” his face tensed in focus, “... I... oh, fuck it!”

Brian chuckled. “Becoming quite eloquent, I see.” Softly, he touched John’s shoulder. “It’s alright,” he said, “I swear nobody will think any less of you because of this. And we’ll be always here to listen, please, don’t worry about it.”

“No crazy,” John tapped on his forehead, exasperated, “Freddie... no see. Baby.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Brian promised, getting a grateful smile. 

John leaned closer. “Sometimes,” he whispered, “weird,” he gestured a twirling motion over his forehead, “then I have words, all. But... focus, head, here, hard!” He gulped, completely exhausted. “Hard be here!”

“But you can tell what’s real?” Brian inquired.

“Yes...”

Brian pulled his friend into a hug. “What about you listen to what we play today?” he offered. “This is the first time for me to keep up with Freddie and Roger, so... I could use some moral support.”

John smiled. “Sure. You...” for a moment he searched for words before he gave up and simply showed both thumbs up.

Brian grinned. “Thanks, Deaks. Go this way to the studio, I left my guitar at the infirmary.”

On the way back, in the dark, Brian nearly crashed into Roger and had to catch him to keep steady. The blond already got out from the uniform and took away the wig.

“Where’s Freddie?” Brian asked.

“Talking with Atkins,” Roger waved his hand. “It seems the thing with John is taking its toll. Every time I get to see Fred, he’s tired, and honestly he doesn’t look good. Have you noticed?”

“Hm, maybe?” Brian really didn’t, but to be honest, with everything around John and now Roger, Freddie hadn’t been in the middle of his awareness for quite a while.

Roger sighed. “Well, he’d be the last to slow down anyway, so what can we do?”

“Deaky’s getting better,” Brian smiled, and softly touched Roger’s cheek. “Better times are coming,” he whispered fondly, “for you, me, and for them... I suppose... we just need to try and not to... well, do what we’ve done up to this point.”

“WWDD,” Roger grinned, eagerly leaning into the touch, “What Would Deaky Do...” He seemed more than willing to continue in the romantic course of actions, but the incident in the infirmary made him pull back. “Is John alone in the studio?” he asked instead.

Brian nodded. “Yeah... you better go, I get the guitar and join you.” 

A fleeting goodbye kiss Roger pressed on his cheek gave Brian’s step a spring when he headed for the infirmary. He wasn’t used to be so high in spirits, and the giddiness drew him a wide goofy smile. 

At the entrance to the infirmary, Brian stopped. Freddie was there, leaning towards doctor Atkins in a quiet conversation, strangely private and secretive. Brian stood awkwardly still, unsure if it was alright to come in or leave and wait. The men didn’t seem they’d appreciate a company.

“... and I think you already know what can and cannot be expected,” doctor Atkins sighed. “I wish I could do more.”

“That makes two of us, darling,” Freddie replied sarcastically, but one glance from the doctor threw him into rapid apologising: “No, I’m sorry, so sorry, I know you’re doing your best, it’s just... just so...”

“I know,” Atkins shook his head, “no need to apologise, I can imagine it’s a lot to deal with-”

Freddie seemed smaller, hunching, nearly curled into a ball on the bed. “Just... how can I tell John,” he whimpered, “it’s just so... unfair! And honestly the main issue isn’t even the biggest problem, I... he’s just getting better, so much better and... and... I can’t do this to him!”

Atkins raised an eyebrow. “So, he doesn’t know?”

“Of course, he doesn’t know!” Freddie said. “You got him from the last dose just two days ago! Three weeks back he’d been throwing crayons on my head, that isn’t exactly the situation for this kind of discussions!”

“It’s not just him who-”

Suddenly, Freddie jumped up when he finally spotted the guitarist at the door. “Brian! What-“

“I-I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” Brian stuttered. His face went slightly redder while Freddie’s paled.

Doctor Atkins used the awkward moment for a quick goodbye and disappeared. Freddie sat down again and rested his head in his palms.

“Is eavesdropping a common practice where you come from?” he mumbled.

“Not really, I just... the guitar,” Brian hesitated, but then approached Freddie and sat down by his side. The smaller man didn’t protest. “Please... what’s this about?” he asked quietly. “What’s wrong with John? He’s getting better, isn’t he? Is there something... bad? Freddie?”

Freddie bit his lip, staring blankly for a moment, before he whispered: “Do you think he’ll be as he used to? Soon?”

“Maybe he already is. Perhaps you underestimate him.”

“I’m the one with him nearly all the hours of the day,” Freddie reminded with a soft reprimand, “don’t you think I should know?”

Brian didn’t really want to argue, so instead of an honest answer, he only shrugged. “Time will tell, I suppose.”

“Undoubtedly,” Freddie gave him a thoughtful glance. “And what about you, dear? Darling Roger says you gave up on trying to remember but forgive me not believing a single word of that.”

Brian huffed. “Am I really that obvious?”

“I know you for some time already, and unlike Roger’s, my nether regions don’t leak every time you look in my direction.”

“Freddie!” 

“Prove me it isn’t so.”

“Freddie, please, stop it,” Brian mumbled. “You know we don’t do anything, and most probably we’ll never-”

“Nonsense, darling, of course you will!” Freddie took his hand and forced Brian to look up. “Just now, we’re writing a better future, each and every tomorrow. And in that future, we’ll do whatever the fuck we choose to. That’s why I know you’ll get what you want, Brian. You’ll get over this. Sooner or later, but you will, because you’ve always had. You’re a bloody champion, my friend.”

“Hardly,” Brian chuckled and shook his head. “Quite the opposite, when you think about it. Since we got to Queen... We had one job – and I failed. What’s more, I dragged John into it as well. And the whole time, I’m just sitting around here, you and Roger taking care of everything, including me. I don’t have any... function anymore, I’m no captain, I’m no rebel, I’m no... lover. Not enough.” He sighed. “Never.”

Freddie raised his eyebrow. “You’re our guitarist now, dear, and I expect a damn good job from you. That’s the function.”

“I’ll do my best, I promise, but-”

“And Roggie said you’d written some songs.”

“Oh, yeah, wait...,” Brian dove into his pockets and took out a tiny notebook covered in his neat handwriting.

“Can I?”

“Sure.”

Freddie’s attentive eyes ran over the chords and lyrics, mumbling some words here and there. Then, he smiled, and Brian felt a great load of stones fall from his chest.

“Do you... like it?”

“I love it, darling,” Freddie nodded and tapped on Brian’s shoulder. “You’re sentenced to write some more. And more and more, till the end of the world. I think for the next show... hm... I want this one...”

Brian glanced over his shoulder to see what Freddie’s pointing at. “The Prophet Song?”

“Oh, oh, children of the land, love is still the answer, take my hand... It’s brilliant, darling,” Freddie assured him.

“It’s... it’s the constellation Roger once showed me,” Brian admitted, “because... The day Roger took me to watch your show, you... really reminded me of it. All these people looking up to you, hanging on your lips, and there was something... in you. Something extraordinary.”

Freddie shyly glanced away, smiling. “Thank you, dear. I really... I think I would easily go mad if it weren’t for the shows. That’s how it started, actually. Roger and I, after we thought we lost you... We needed something. And in the end, I feel I got even more than I ever imagined possible.” He didn’t seem really happy about it.

“What is it?” Brian worried.

“Oh, just,” Freddie said vaguely, “all the people here on Queen are trying to live their lives the way Institute dictates – so we’d have hope to pass something of ourselves to future generations. I just imagined... what would my parents say, knowing I risk it all.”

“Parents... are complicated, even on Earth,” Brian replied slowly, “and honestly... sometimes it’s better not to know.”

“I’d still rather know,” Freddie shook his head. “The whole concept of parents and children, the family... it did sound nice when Deaky told me. I’m thinking about it a lot. To have a group of people who just... belong to you, and you to them, no matter what.”

There was a brief silence, before Brian said: “Well... you know we’re here for you, Roger, me, John, no matter what. And you for us. We could pass for a family quite well.”

Freddie gave him a toothy grin. “I would like that. And.... and we should go to make sure the studio’s still standing even with Roger in it.”

Brian wholeheartedly agreed, grabbed the guitar and they left the infirmary side by side.

 

In the studio, they were welcomed by an unexpected sound of soft percussions accompanying rhythmical tunes of a bass. John was sitting in the corner, the instrument in hands, and seemed to have no trouble to keep the beat.

Freddie raised an eyebrow, giving Roger a stern stare. “Darling? What is this supposed to mean?”

“Well, don’t look at me,” Roger waved his arms in defence. “He just took it!”

John sent an annoyed glance towards Brian, who quickly interfered: “He’s really good, we played together before. And this seems ideal. With John on bass, we can record all the tracks in real time and get much better synchronization, don’t you think?”

“He’s sick!” Freddie protested. “I shouldn’t have even brought him here, he’s too weak, too ill, he can’t play!”

“I can!” John jumped out, his eyes furious, and threw one of his picks against the wall. “I want!”

“Deaky, darling, please, calm down and-”

“No! Stupid!”

“Enough!” Brian shouted. The sharp command froze both John and Freddie on the spot. “Now,” he continued calmly, “what about we vote? Who’s for John playing the bass? I know I am.”

“So am I,” Roger joined him immediately.

John only nodded, staring at Freddie with challenge written all over his face.

“Fine,” Freddie sighed, “but please, darling, if you start feeling unwell or-”

John stubbornly plucked several strings instead of an answer.

“What was the one you were trying just now, Rog?” Brian, determined to leave the bass issue behind, pulled the guitar strap over his head, increasingly nervous and giddy. 

“The one Freddie showed you yesterday,” Roger checked his cymbals, and flashed an encouraging smile on both Brian and John.

John nodded in response. Ready.

“Alright, darlings, we all know the melody, keyboard’s prepared, everything plugged... We start without instruments for the first line, then you join. And I need you to sing, we’ll include it to the recorded track.” Freddie cleared his throat, frowning at the paper. “And it’ll really need a different name.”

“What about we just take the name from the lyrics directly?” Brian suggested. “Somebody to love?”

“Can be,” Freddie grinned, “very well, then.” One could almost feel the energy filling him as he prepared to sing. “Everything ready, darlings?” After getting three affirmative nods, he smirked. “Let’s go.”


	36. Prophet Must Fall

Brian walked out of a shower, wet hair slowly drying and curling around his face, and smiled at the sound of soft guitar chords from the bedroom. Roger was sitting on the bed, already dressed in pyjamas, and his face made an image of absolute focus and concentration as he worked on a new song. The couple had agreed to take the guitar home just for moments like these, though they couldn’t strum very hard because of neighbours.

With a grin, Brian crawled over the sheets and hugged Roger from behind, pressing feather-like kisses in his hair. It was soft and warm. As the days went by, Brian felt more and more comfortable doing it. Warm, safe... happy. His heart fluttered.

“You’re so beautiful when you focus,” he whispered and tenderly nuzzled against Roger’s neck. Even without seeing it, he could feel his boyfriend blush.

“Just a minute,” Roger mumbled, but tilted his head to enable the attentions, “I almost have it...”

Obediently, Brian stood silent, until Roger put the instrument aside, and he felt safe to ask: “What is it going to be?” 

“Ehm... a love song. Kind of.” 

“A love song? Can I see?”

“Oh, ehm- hey!” Roger exclaimed in protest when Brian snatched the paper from his lap and turned away to have a look at the prize.

The moment of absolute silence made Roger shiver.

“Eh... Rog?” 

“Hm?”

“I’m in love with my car?” Brian read the title incredulously and raised an eyebrow. “I’m in love with my car?” His lips twitched.

“What?” Roger protested, but Brian already couldn’t hold a silent laughter which took over his whole body.

“Your car?” he repeated, tears in his eyes. “Machine of a dream? Rog? Something you failed to tell me about those two years I’ve been gone? Your car?”

“Stop it!” Roger quickly turned around and sat on the bed to face his boyfriend. “This is a song for people! To connect with them, deep stuff and so!”

“Sure, there’s nothing better than a good conveyance,” Brian wholeheartedly agreed and continued giggling.

“Stop it! Stop it!”

“Wait,” Brian’s face went a bit calmer, “this... isn’t a joke?”

“No!” Roger protested. “Of course not, it’s very serious!”

“Ehm... are you...,” Brian chose a more measured tone, “... completely sure? I mean, the songs are supposed to motivate people to love each other, to listen, to understand what the Institute does, and this song... I’m not entirely sure it’d send... ehm... a message strong enough.”

“Well, I like it,” Roger huffed, “and when I show it to Fred and Deaks, they’ll love it as well. And just for your information, mister, this whole revolution wouldn’t be possible without my car, and it deserves some appreciation.”

Brian shrugged and chuckled a bit. “Yes, when you put it like this... you should go and put your hand on its grease gun just to show that appreciation.”

“Well, that’s the only thing I can really put my hands on around here, isn’t it?” Roger retorted and grabbed the paper with lyrics from Brian’s suddenly pliant hands.

In a moment of silence between them, he realized what exactly was said. Roger gulped. “Brian? Brian, I’m sorry, I...,” he threw the lyrics on the floor, “... I didn’t mean that.”

Brian glanced away but took Roger’s hand in his. “I know,” he said, “but in a way... you did. At least on the inside and that’s normal and I’m so sorry... you deserve so much-”

“If you say I deserve so much better, Brian May, I’ll throw you out of the bloody window,” Roger interrupted him, and jumped out from the bed in a bout of temper. “Really?” he spread his arms in frustration. “Really?”

“Look, Rog, this thing-”

“No, you look,” Roger snapped. “Look at me. I’m sorry, alright, I shouldn’t have said that. But you can’t react this way every time I slip, because believe me or not, from time to time it happens! I can’t walk on glass around you all the time! It’s honestly quite hurtful how you still think I should just get someone else, do you really doubt me that much?”

Brian sighed shakily and looked up. “No...,” he whispered, “I don’t... It’s not you I doubt.”

“That’s good enough, love,” Roger nodded and pressed a soft kiss in Brian’s hair, “if you believe in me... and I you... then, we’re good, aren’t we? Not perfect, but... if we both do our best, it’s enough. It must be.”

Brian got up as well and pulled Roger into a tight embrace.

“Rog... I’m-”

“If you try to apologise, I scream.”

“... I’m... really in love with you.”

“Why don’t I believe you were really going to say just that,” Roger chuckled, “but I take it anyway. I love you too.”

Long minutes, they stood like that, hugging tightly, lost in each other’s presence. Brian’s hand gently slipped under his lover’s shirt, sliding over the naked skin. Roger’s breath hitched and wide blue eyes stared into Brian’s.

“Is that alright?” Brian whispered.

“Hell, yeah...”

“Could you take it off then?”

Roger slid it over his head within seconds, and Brian gently led him back to bed. There wasn’t an exact plan, but Brian knew he wanted to do... something. And judging from Roger’s rapid breathing and flushed chest, he wanted something as well.

“You won’t take yours off?” Roger whispered when Brian crawled over him and kissed him deeply.

“No...,” Brian kissed his lip again, and then his chin, and cheeks, and kept peppering his lover’s face with gentle kisses, “... this is for you... to make you feel good. Because I’ve always, since the very first day, Rog, always wanted to do just that...”

“Please do,” Roger breathed when Brian’s attentions moved on his neck. All his hairs stood at attention, and whole body shivered. “Make me feel good...”

Brian took his sweet time, caressing, fondling and kissing all over his lover’s chest, shoulders, and inner side of his arms. When his hands finally slid lower on the stomach while he licked over a hard nipple, Roger gasped and squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable in his trousers.

“Bri... please, do...”

“What should I do, love?”

“Something!” Roger whined. “Something, please... but do something!”

“Something?” Brian hummed and softly sucked on the nipple in his mouth while he started to unbutton his lover’s trousers. “Like this?” The hand slipped in and ran all over Roger’s hardness.

Roger yelped, squeezing his eyes shut. “Brian...,” he mumbled breathily, “Brian...” 

He could feel the long fingers stroking softly and steadily, and it hadn’t been anything like the shy attempts he used to try by himself. This was Brian’s doing, his Brian, his love Brian spread all over him and above him, long curls tickling on naked skin, giving him pleasure. It was heaven... and hell. Roger felt himself redden and flush all over, needy and restless. His body as if started to act on its own, losing better judgment, bothered, suffering and trembling, deprived of its dues for way too long.

Roger let out a breathy moan, and quickly covered his mouth. “Bri, oh... sorry...”

“None of that,” Brian whispered sensually, and moved up to kiss his lips again. The hand on Roger’s cock hadn’t faltered – just maybe got a little bit quicker. “You make any noises you need to, love. Hell, I expect you to. You have no idea how amazing you look right now, Rog, you make me so lucky, so lucky...”  
He was determined to make this good for Roger. Brian very well remembered all the men he’d done this to – and also very clearly realised that never, never in his life he cared so much about showing his best. And surprise, the thought didn’t make him nervous, he relished in hearing Roger’s soft pants. The wave of excitement swept Brian with and made him eager for Roger’s climax perhaps even more than its poor recipient. Just the image of his blond beauty lost and unhinged, oh, fuck...

For a while, Roger didn’t do more than let out soft wheezy “oh” with every stroke of Brian’s hand, but his breaths were becoming heavier, and the lean body squirmed and trembled. Brian felt wetness under his hand, as drops of precum escaped from Roger’s tip.

“Bri...,” Roger gasped, “plea- oh! I can’t... ‘s good, can’t, please, oh! More! Bri!” 

Brian tightened the grip and fastened his tempo, rushing to send Roger over the edge. His lover made a marvel of himself, tight fists gripping on snow-white sheets, back arched in a desperate chase for relief. It wasn’t even words Roger was letting out anymore, only incoherent noises of despair, pleasure and happiness, all mixed together.

And when he came with a scream, Brian thought he’d never saw anything so beautiful. He wanted to do more, anything for Roger. His heart ached and overflew with all the emotions, and when he leaned over his spent ragdoll of a lover, Brian got an idea. 

He needed to talk to Freddie.

 

***

 

It’s been weeks since the four men got together as a band – four weeks of endless practices, song writing and several nerve-wracking shows.

“The crowd’s even bigger than usual!” Roger shouted and tried to get through the mass of people occupying the Graves Square – the largest open space in the capital, and tonight, a place of Freddie’s next performance. 

He had to admit, Miami picked their locations perfectly. From understandable reason the rebels couldn’t announce the shows in advance, but the Graves Store on their left just started a week of discounts, so show or not, the place was packed. Just ready, Freddie.

John bit his lip, anxiously looking around. “Where Brian?”

“I don’t know,” Roger admitted, frowning. “He spent the night in Rockfield, said he’d be here on time. Maybe already here? There are people everywhere, god.”

He didn’t want to admit it in front of John, but Brian’s absence did make him nervous. This was supposed to be a special occasion, Brian’s new song out for the first time – surely, he wouldn’t miss that! After further search, he could see Mary, David, and several other known faces of rebellion, ready to enjoy the show and sneakily spread the word that “this is the famous Freddie Mercury, just listen what he says, I heard that the Institute...” But no Brian. 

Maybe he got caught up in song-writing and won’t be coming at all, Roger thought, which would be probably for the best. As the shows went on, it got increasingly harder to escape Foster’s soldiers, though it seemed he never got any enforcements, to the rebellion’s delight. Yes, it’s good Brian stays out of this.

John tapped on his shoulder. “Time,” he reminded, frowning.

Oh, yes. For the last time, Roger quickly looked over the square, not searching for his curly-haired lover, but the Institute’s forces. He saw none. From sides, Mary and Ratty were also watching and then gave Roger thumbs up. 

He quickly took out his phone and texted Miami: “Clear”

Right after the hacker received the message, he switched off all the security cameras around the place, replacing their data with old, uneventful tapes. The public speakers were already under his control.  
Breathe in... breathe out... three... two... one...

A deafening beat blasted from the speakers, and as usual, people froze in their steps. Then everybody understood what was coming. 

“Freddie! It's Freddie!”

Just a simple beat, percussion only, but the original idea counted with a different kind of instrument. That’s why there were so many members of Rebellion. They knew what to do.  
Roger and John started it – stomp-stomp-clap-pause. Stomp-stomp-clap-pause. Stomp-stomp-clap-pause. The crowd faltered for a short moment, slightly confused, but quickly caught up and the excitement only increased.

STOMP-STOMP-CLAP STOMP-STOMP-CLAP STOMP-STOMP-CLAP

Finally – a familiar figure in wig, make-up, and leotards appeared, and the cheering rose into a deafening roar. Freddie was quick to deliver.

“BUDDY, YOU’RE A BOY, MAKE A BIG NOISE, PLAYING IN THE STREET, GONNA BE A BIG MAN SOMEDAY! YOU GOT MUD ON YOUR FACE, YOU BIG DISGRACE, KICKING YOUR CAN ALL OVER THE PLACE SINGIN’ WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU! WE WILL ROCK YOU!”

“Do you want to come closer?” Roger screamed to John over the crowd. John shook his head and pressed himself closer. Not that he really wanted to, but the square was bursting at the seams to accommodate all the people thirsting to hear the legendary rebel Mercury.

“BUDDY, YOU’RE A YOUNG MAN, HARD MAN, SHOUTING IN THE STREET, GONNA TAKE ON THE WORLD SOMEDAY! YOU GOT BLOOD ON YOUR FACE, YOU BIG DISGRACE, WAVING YOUR BANNER ALL OVER THE PLACE, WE WILL ROCK YOU! WE WILL ROCK YOU!”

The crowd joined their beloved singer in a deafening unison.

WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!  
WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!  
WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!

Everybody, even both John and Roger got dragged into the frenzy and energy of the human mass.

WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU! WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!

Suddenly a guitar solo rang through the place and Roger frowned. It didn’t sound like the one they recorded for the tape coming from speakers. It was clearer, better, sharper. John let out a gasp, tugged on Roger’s sleeve and hastily pointed to the area where Freddie performed.

The singer wasn’t alone. Brian was there, by his side, tall, proud and handsome in his white opened shirt, long fingers running over the strings of his beloved guitar, creating the unique, masterful melody.

“What the fuck...,” Roger hissed. “What... what is he doing there, what is he playing at? Why? Fuck!”

John only groaned, but they couldn’t do much besides keeping the stomp and clap rhythm. 

The song ended and Roger looked at the time. Three minutes in. In the centre they usually never risked anything longer than four, because security forces could be there any moment. But... nothing. No sirens, no shouts, no soldiers. Roger squinted his eyes in suspicion. Something wasn’t right.

Freddie and Brian apparently didn’t share the ominous feeling, as the singer raised the guitarist’s arm in the air and the crowd exploded in cheers.

“THANK YOU, MY DARLINGS, WE BOTH THANK YOU! AND LET’S GIVE A GREAT APPLAUSE FOR ONE OF THE MEN WITHOUT WHOM WE WOULDN’T STAND HERE TODAY – OUR REAL-LIFE VISITOR FROM EARTH ITSELF, YES, YOU HEAR THAT CORRECTLY, DARLINGS, BRIAN MAY!”

Brian’s expression seemed wavering among shy, pleased, overwhelmed and furiously happy. It took Roger’s breath away, but... Get out, he mumbled quietly, come on, good show, get the hell out...

Now Freddie seemed a bit nervous too, without the regular running away from sirens, but his solution couldn’t be more different from Roger’s pleading suggestions.

“AND NOW, MY LOVIES,” Freddie smiled, “THIS SONG IS ONLY DEDICATED TO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE HERE TONIGHT – THAT MEANS ALL OF YOU. THANK YOU FOR COMING ALONG AND MAKING THIS A GREAT OCCASION!”

He glanced back at Brian who quickly nodded and started to play a soft melody. Miami, listening from their hidden lair, quickly caught up too and played the correct beat from their catalogue.

Freddie grinned and started singing again.

“THIS THING CALLED LOVE, I JUST CAN’T HANDLE IT! THIS THING CALLED LOVE, I MUST GET ROUND TO IT! I AIN’T READY! CRAZY LITTLE THING CALLED LOVE!”

He danced in front of the audience who excitedly clapped in the rhythm. Roger didn’t watch, nervously glancing left and right. His sixth sense was screaming.

“THIS THING, THIS THING, CALLED LOVE, CALLED LOVE, IT CRIES LIKE A BABY IN A CRADLE ALL NIGHT! IT SWINGS, WOO WOO, IT JIVES, WOO WOO, I KINDA LIKE IT! CRAZY LITTLE THING CALLED LOVE!”

Suddenly, Roger’s blood froze in his veins when he finally saw it - a man dressed in everyday civil clothes, partly hidden behind the corner of a nearest building, was raising a rifle to his face, pointing to the performers, ready to shoot.

“A sniper!” Roger screamed, but no one could hear him. “Run! Sniper!” 

It was hopeless. Full of dread, he had only seconds to think. Miami could never create blind zones over larger areas except for the one over Rockfield, during concerts he covered only Freddie, leaving others to disappear in the crowd without protection. Normally, it wouldn’t matter – but now, if Roger were to attack a soldier, they would notice him, and he knew very well what that would mean. 

His heart sank even lower when he realized John was no longer by his side.

“John!” he shrieked – and then saw him again. John hastily zig-zagged through the crowd towards the sniper, coming from behind.  
Horrified, Roger could only watch how the man didn’t expect any danger. It seemed so easy for John to wrap his arm around the soldier’s neck. And with a murderous glow in his eyes he quickly yanked, effectively snapping the man’s spine in two.

“THERE GOES MY BABY, HE KNOWS HOW TO ROCK ‘N’ ROLL, HE DRIVES ME CRAZY, HE GIVES ME HOT AND COLD FEVER, THEN HE LEAVES ME IN A COOL COOL SWEAT!”

Roger swallowed in discomfort. Nobody noticed the quick action, everyone too enticed in the show. Dead soldier collapsed on the pavement like a sack of cement, and John sunk back into the crowd. An invisible man.

It was clear they needed to run – and fast, Roger realised that much. He pushed the people in front of him to get to warn Freddie and Brian.

“I GOTTA BE COOL, RELAX, GET HIP, AND GET ON MY TRACKS. TAKE A BACK SEAT, HITCH-HIKE, AND TAKE A LONG RIDE ON MY MOTORBIKE UNTIL I’M READY! CRAZY LITTLE THING CALLED LOVE!”

Bang!

People shrieked when a man collapsed on a ground, right in front of Freddie, a great bloody stain on his back. The singer wavered and quickly stepped forward to help him, but Brian dragged him back. 

More shots.

“Windows!” John yelled, suddenly by Roger’s side again. “There! And there! There!”

Roger quickly looked – John was right, at least six more snipers were aiming on the performers. He did the only thing he could.

“SNIPERS!” Roger screamed over the heads of crowd. And now, without Freddie’s singing, some could hear him and repeated like an echo: “SNIPERS!” The call spread further until everybody cried and shouted: “HELP! RUN! SNIPERS!”

All the square fell into a state of utter panic. Everybody ran to get out, all the chaos still ironically underlined by the soft beat from speakers. Freddie and Brian disappeared in the crowd, people were screaming, crying, pushing and when somebody fell, he stood no chance against the feet stomping over him trying to get out of the reach of rifles.

“John!” Roger screeched in panic. “Deaky!”

“Over here! Roger!”

“Run!”

Roger threw one last glance in places where he last saw Brian’s curly mop – and the moment of cost him dearly. Sharp shot sounded through the air, and Roger felt a sharp pain in his hip. His yellow shirt got stained with red. Hesitantly, Roger touched the place, staring helplessly at the blood... until the world started to go dark.

“Deaky...”

“Roger!”

 

Around fifty meters from them, Brian grasped Freddie around shoulders as they were trying their best to get out of there. He knew that the only way how to move in a panicked crowd was to try and keep the predominant direction and tempo, but things like that are harder than they sound. Freddie was flushed and heavily panting, Brian had trouble to even keep him walk straight. His knees trembled.

“Deaky’s in there,” Freddie cried out when Brian sped up, swiftly leading them through the crowd. Somewhere behind their backs, he could hear several more barks of the rifles and more cries.

Blind shooting, Brian realized bitterly, they cannot get us, so they just empty their magazines at will, whoever gets unlucky. To create fear and panic. Well, they certainly succeeded.

“Fuck!” Brian cursed as they ran. “Fuck! Fuck!” He could only hope Roger and John got safely out, there was nothing he could do.

“Here, Freddie!” he ordered. “To the narrow street over there! Quick!”

It cost a lot of energy to battle the way through the crowd, but they finally squeezed into an alley between two houses, not even two meters wide. The ironically happy beat still sounded from the speakers, mixing with people’s screams.

“Brian!” Freddie exclaimed, grabbing his arm. 

Right in the middle of the alley, there was one of the snipers, pointing his rifle at them, grinning. Brian leaped. The bullet made a hole in a wall, and both men fell on the ground, locked in a first fight. Brian wasn’t as strong as the soldier, but had a solid enough training, and perhaps he could win, if suddenly his mind didn’t start to go hazy. People, pictures, words, places, it twirled in front of his eyes like a fog, he felt the oh-so-familiar helpless panic freezing his body. No, no, no, he could already feel hands on his throat – and a bang.

The soldier let go.

Above them, there was Freddie holding the rifle, eyes wide, while the sniper’s brain got all spread over Brian’s shirt and around two square meters of wall. It reminded Brian of another occasion, another soldier, another shot. Long ago.

“I... I killed him,” Freddie gasped, “God...”

“The first one’s always the hardest,” Brian assured him sternly and got up, angry at himself for allowing this. “Thanks, Fred. And we should go, there’ll be others in no time. We need to get out.”

They ran down the alley and away from the bloodied square.


	37. Prime Boy

“But that’s ridiculous!” Brian exclaimed, glaring at Miami. “You can’t possibly ask-“ 

“It’s the only reasonable thing to do,” Miami said and crossed arms on his chest. “What happened, happened.” 

They were in Freddie’s apartment, Brian, Freddie, and Miami, the latter two sitting on the sofa. The air around felt thick and unpleasant, as if the absence of their rhythm section took even larger space than the two being actually present.

“Roger was there, and hasn’t returned,” Brian paced around the room, his face tight, and nerves slowly breaking down, “John was there, also hasn’t returned! And you’re telling us it’s better to stay hidden?” He stared incredulously. “Really?”

“And a rumour had it you owned a brain,” the hacker sighed and plain ignored Brian’s murderous glare. “If they got out from that place, they’re able to get here. And if not, well...,” he shrugged, “nothing we can do.”

“How can you even- Freddie!” Brian turned to the singer as the last resort. “Explain it to him, because I’m done!”

Freddie looked up, hunched, clenching a mug. His eyes were glassy. “Miami is right, darling,” he said, “and besides, it’ll help neither of them if you get yourself arrested, it doesn’t feel good from either side.”

Brian bit his lip. This was a low blow. “We need to do something,” he ran fingers through his hair, still too agitated to sit for even a second. 

“And we will,” Freddie said tightly, “Foster has one more thing to answer for – and this one will cost him dearly.”

“I don’t think Foster had anything to do with this one,” Miami suddenly said, and all eyes in the room turned to him. 

Brian frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The snipers,” he explained. “We’re doing these shows for months, and the pattern of response nearly never changed. And suddenly this? Why? Foster is maybe a Head of Queen’s security, but there are no shock troops under his command, believe me.”

“So... if they’re not under Foster,” Freddie said, as he started to understand where Miami was heading, “then under whom?”

Miami shrugged. “We can’t be sure, but to get to their places that quickly, without anyone noticing, and to dare and shoot from such distance... I’d guess it’s Reid’s special unit.”

“Prenter...,” Brian caught his head in his hands, “God... Prenter leads Reid’s special unit, doesn’t he?”

“He does.”

“He stayed out of this the whole time,” Freddie opposed. The idea of Prenter getting his hands of their Rebellion sounded less than appealing. “Why start now? We didn’t even make any speeches. I know we’re getting popular, the risk increases, but-”

“One thing was different this time,” Miami interrupted him tiredly, “and I think that’s our answer.” His eyes slowly turned to the guitarist. Freddie’s as well.

“Me?” Brian shook his head and made a small step back in defence. “No! Nobody even knew I was going to play!”

“It took them longer to attack,” Miami reminded, “twice the usual time. I think Prenter acted once he heard you made an appearance. There’s something about you they want, he and Reid. Brian May, alive or dead.”

“Eleven people died!” Brian snapped. “And that’s just the publicly admitted number! Innocent people! Reid must know he’s turning the public against him by letting Prenter act like this!”

“Maybe you’re worth it.”

“Eleven dead!”

“He helped us, in a way,” Miami said. “People will hear about this and stand against RISUGI more than before.”

“Helped us? We lost Deaky and Roger, and, maybe I forgot to mention, - eleven people died!” Brian collapsed on the sofa right on the mountain of Freddie’s small cushions. “This is a disaster...”

Miami sighed. “Nevertheless...”

“If I could at least remember...,” Brian’s voice sounded weaker, almost like a whine, “... but... what about me could be worth... that?” 

“Darling...,” Freddie spoke softly and took his hand, “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. You can’t-”

A knock on the door startled them all.

“Shit...,” Freddie whispered, and his eyes flicked to the door, his two friends, and back again. Knock-knock-knock sounded impatient. “You better go to the bedroom, I’ll handle  
this.”

“Freddie, if-“

“I’ll handle it, Brian. Go. Now.”

Without further discussion, Miami grabbed Brian’s shirt and dragged him over to the bedroom while Freddie sighed and turned his attention to the door.

Knocking.

“Who is it?” Freddie called and walked over there. “Hello?”

A moment of silence behind the door. “John.”

“Darling!” Freddie flung the door open and with a soft yelp John ended up in his embrace. “I knew it, I knew you would manage to get back, darling, this is wonderful, where is-“

“Deaks!” Brian hurried out of the bedroom. Miami followed, shut the entrance door and ushered the whole group further away. “Where is Roger?” Brian asked. “Did you, is he home? Or in Rockfield? No, they’d let us know, he’s home, tell me he’s home!”

Only now they realized John was pale and shaking all over. Experimentally, he opened his mouth, but couldn’t utter a single word, only a small sob. 

“That’s alright, my darling,” Freddie smiled warmly and pushed Brian away, softly leading John to the sofa. They all knew nerves never helped John to express himself, though he had made a great improvement during the last two weeks.

Brian knew that too, so he excused himself to the kitchen to make something hot to drink.

John was clutching Freddie’s hand, staring pleadingly. “Freddie...,” he whispered.

“I’m here, lovie,” Freddie said, “all is well. No rush.” His hands actually itched with impatience, but he knew better than to press his sweetheart. 

“They... were shooting,” John turned his eyes down, shaken but determined, pronouncing heavily every word, “Roger. They shot Roger.”

A loud crash of dishes hitting the floor sounded from the kitchen and Brian appeared, stunned, still holding one last cup.

“Shot?” he asked and the fingers around the cup got white from the pressure. His eyes widened in shock. “Deaks... Roger? Shot?”

“T-tried to...,” John stuttered tearily, “... tried drag away, blood, on the ground, all over, people running... b-but then soldiers, taking people. He... too heavy, I had to... run and hide and... left...” Fresh tears sprung from his eyes when he glanced at Brian. “I’m sorry...”

“It’s not... your fault,” Brian said, wide-eyed in quiet disbelief, “no one blames you.” It was clear he was trying his best to keep himself together, but slowly running out of reserves. His lip trembled.

“Wait a second, darling,” Freddie frowned, clutching on a pillow next to him, “did you see Roger being shot or... shot to d-death?”

“I... don’t know.”

“There’s been a list of casualties,” Miami reminded and sat down from the other side of John, “but Roger’s name wasn’t on it. The soldiers might have taken the injured ones to the hospital. It wouldn’t hurt to ask Atkins, he can check.”

 

The idea was generally accepted, so Miami walked a bit away to make the call. Brian returned to the kitchen to clean the broken dishes. He needed a moment alone and besides; his shaking legs wouldn’t carry him even if he tried. This mechanical activity on the floor seemed perfect. 

On the sofa, John snuggled a bit closer to Freddie and explained, more or less coherently, how he ran from the square when the soldiers appeared, hid in a cellar nearby, got locked in, and didn’t get out until now.

“My poor dear,” Freddie tutted, running his fingers through John’s hair. They hadn’t cut it since the big rescue, and now it formed a bit of a fluffy halo. He loved it. John frowned at the cooing but decided to let it slide. The shooting, the sniper, Roger and few hours in a cellar were enough of an excuse to concede to some gentle spoiling. Freddie’s arms were exactly what he needed. And the long speech exhausted him, every word found and created with effort. But now... safety... warmth... silence... His eyes closed.

Freddie smiled. John’s sleepy and cuddly presence was almost enough to repel the image of the man whose brain he had shot through this afternoon. Almost. He sighed, wishing more than ever the way of life on Queen would be more like the one he heard was on Earth. A family. 

We could pass for a family. Freddie hoped that one day, when everything was over, they would make a true family, the kind he read about. 

 

Brian was standing in the kitchen over already cleaned floor, hesitant to re-join the company in the living room. Fear for Roger and a bit of a jealousy over the other couple boiled in his veins. Was he the reason this all happened? All these dead people – because of him? Roger... because of him? Brian cursed himself for ever coming up with the idea of performing live. He just wanted to experience it, show off in front of Roger, but now... stupid. So, so stupid idea. 

He leaned over the kitchen sink, breathing heavily, trying not to hear the shots and screams in his head. Did Prenter really want him so much he didn’t hesitate to have so many casualties? What was it he should remember? But... Brian suddenly thought... if it’s a secret... and they want me dead... that means they’re afraid I could reveal it... and that means  
it is possible to remember. Somehow. To find the barrier and break through.

Once again, Brian tried to focus and go back... he knew where he should remember, from what moment, but... but... 

“Are you alright?” Freddie appeared in the door, and Brian jumped up, startled.

“Ehm? Oh, yes, in a minute just...” he gestured vaguely, trying to hide a guilty face, “... will finish the cleaning.” 

“You’ve been in here for more than half an hour, lovie,” Freddie frowned, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my kitchen this spotless.” He walked over to the tap and filled his glass with water. “Deaky fell asleep, Miami’s now watching over him. Atkins promised to call us back once he has something.”

Brian heavily nodded. “Good...”

“And... eh... Brian?” Freddie looked nervous but decided not to beat around the bush.

“Yes?”

“You... killed people.” 

“Yes...” Brian stiffened a bit but nodded in understanding. “Freddie... the sniper today... you saved my life. Though... that’s hardly a consolation, isn’t it?”

“So, you know...” Freddie slowly leaned against the counter. “I can still see him in front of me,” he choked a bit, his eyes wide. “I know he attacked you and wanted to kill you, and I don’t... well... regret not letting you die, Bri, but... what if he wasn’t a bad man? And it’s... it’s so scary how easy it is to kill people, pull a trigger... Almost as if it doesn’t matter. I just wanted this to be a better place, but never, never this, Bri, never this... What if that’s what’s going to become of us?”

“It won’t,” Brian put a firm hand on Freddie’s shoulder. “I know it won’t. They will be violent, I fear... today was just a taste of what’s about to come. And I’m not saying we won’t have to answer in the same manner, sooner or later, but as long as it doesn’t please you...”

“How could it?” Freddie seemed shocked at the possibility. “Brian, it’s the most disgusting thing I ever-! Honestly, I wish it was me, not him! I don’t even know his name, not even... I think about it, over and over, and I wish I’ve never been born, if living this life means I get to do - this!”

“It means a lot more,” Brian said, trying to give some comfort. “You’re a good person, Freddie, and we’re all happy to know you and to have you.”

“Will it ever be the same?” Freddie whispered, looking up anxiously. “How can one even go on after something like that?”

The small kitchen almost resonated with silence.

Brian thought about the answer for a while. “It won’t be the same,” he said, “but... you can still make it good. With Deaky.”

“I’m doing my best to take care of him.”

“I don’t think that’s what he wants.”

“What?”

A loud knocking interrupted them, and Freddie hurried to the door. Doctor Atkins, in person. Alone.

“I came as soon as I could,” he said, stepping in, and looked at Freddie apologetically.

“We thought you’d call.”

“I think some news are better to convey in person.”

Brian’s stomach clenched at those words, and John, awakened by the arrival, also frowned. “Roger?”

Atkins sighed. “Well... it’s better than it could be. He’s alive and well and- oh!” The doctor could only gasp when Brian leaped and hugged him tight.

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you...” Brian repeated, squeezing the life out of the man.

“What means “better than it could be”?” John asked and got up from the sofa with slight suspicion. “Brian, let go of the man, we need him alive.”

“Your spark’s coming back,” Brian couldn’t hold back the remark.

John ignored him.

Atkins hurried to explain. “Everybody caught on the square or running from it was brought to the Institute for questioning,” he said, “and the injured ones to the hospital. Roger is in our third surgery department, and my colleagues took care of his wound. Lots of blood, but the bullet didn’t go deep. The problem is... Prenter’s people make no exceptions. He was interrogated, or will be in a very near future, and his flat is going to be searched.”

“They suspect him?” Freddie asked. “He didn’t... say anything, right? He could’ve been there by accident, like others.”

“It’s the same for everybody,” Atkins explained. “I don’t think Roger is more suspicious than others, though... that depends on what they find during the search.”

Brian thought quickly. Most of his belongings were at Rockfield, as he spent the last week practicing for his public debut. And day before yesterday, Roger brought their spare guitar to the studio for restringing. 

“I... don’t think there’s anything,” he said, “luckily. Few shirts, but... they could as well be Roger’s. Can we see him, doctor? Please?” 

“I don’t think it would be safe for anyone to let you in the hospital, Brian.”

“When will he come home, then?”

“Brian...,” Miami said and sighed heavily, “... you do realize they’ll follow him.”

After a moment of silence, Brian frowned and asked: “Follow him? How do you know?”

“We don’t,” Atkins took the thread back, grateful for the hacker’s support. Brian wasn’t an easy conversation partner, especially when it came to Roger’s well-being. “We don’t know, and that’s why we need to act like they will, until we’re sure of the opposite. I believe Roger can handle the interrogations. And let’s assume the search of his flat brings nothing suspicious. But still, he’s one of those who’d been caught on the scene – without a trace of DHA in his body.”

“Same as at least a third of others,” Brian said, stubbornly crossing his arms. He generally accepted what the doctor was saying, but damn if he let that one slide without a word of protest.

“Still, it’s a risk,” Atkins said. “And Roger knows that too. He won’t contact us, we will not contact him, at least for two weeks, more if we’re not sure.”

“We can’t leave him alone in this!”

“Brian, we can, and we will. It’s the only way. Or do you think he’d be grateful if you rush to his side, get him arrested, get yourself arrested – again – tortured and killed? Is that what you want?”

John threw a warning glance towards the doctor. There was no need for this.

Miami quickly interfered, his voice kinder than the doctor’s, though no less determined. “Don’t forget Roger still has his circuit. They can watch his steps. It’ll take me some time to find out if there’s any special attention on him. Others can make sure he’s not being followed physically. The only way you can keep him safe is to stay as far from him as possible. Can you do that?”

Brian’s lips made a thin line as he nodded sternly, not without reluctance. “If that’s everybody’s opinion, just... tell him I think about him, please.”

“I will,” Atkins promised. 

“And... I suppose I should stay in Rockfield,” Brian concluded. “With Miami.” The other option would be Freddie’s flat, but one glance at John warned him against that idea.

Miami nodded. “All settled then. Atkins will look after Rog, and Brian and I organise as much as possible from the mines. Eh, by the way - are you alright, John?”

“Yeah,” the bassist glanced at Freddie. “It’s late though.”

“Yes, we should go,” Miami showed Brian to the door and Atkins followed. “Good night, guys.”

 

Just few seconds after the others left, John took Freddie’s hand, hesitantly, as if unsure he could.

“We... we’re alone,” he said with a silent question in his eyes. “Freddie?”

“That we are,” Freddie pressed a soft kiss on his forehead. “What about you go shower, darling, and I change your bedsheets, so you have them nice and fresh for the night?”

“No, I-”

“Oh, of course, you must be hungry, what about you sit and-”

“Freddie!” John exclaimed and his eyes glistened. “Stop!” With two quick steps he closed the gap between them, took Freddie’s head in his hands and kissed him. Freddie choked in surprise and tried to get away, but John held firmly, lips pressed on lips in an urgent despair.

“Darling!” Freddie breathed heavily, his cheeks flushed, when they finally parted. “We c- you can’t do that, you’re ill, you need to rest-”

“Fuck that!” 

“John Deacon, I swear to-”

“Freddie! Listen! Talk me – eh, Talk. To. Me!” John reached for Freddie’s hand and grasped it firmly. “I need you! And want you, Freddie, please...”

“No! Darling, no.”

“Is it Jim?” John asked and his voice wavered. “Do you... sleep with Jim?”

“What?” Freddie gestured furiously. “Why does everybody think I have something with Jim?”

John crossed his arms. “Looks like that!”

Freddie stepped back in defence. “Jim is my friend!”

“He likes you!”

“That one’s on him, Deaky, but I swear-”

“You love him?”

“No!”

John’s breath hitched. “You love me?”

“Of course, I do!”

“Fuck you!” John angrily turned on his heel and walked several steps away.

“What?” Freddie froze in confusion, but then quickly ran to face his boyfriend again. “Darling, look at me! I love you, you know that-”

“Then show me!” John urged pleadingly, and his voice lowered to nearly a whisper. “Kiss me, touch me, fuck me, Freddie. You took... good care of me and... I’m grateful... but I’m back, your Deaky, same as I was and I need... I need you back as well. I want... my lover back. Freddie...”

As if in a dream, Freddie laid his hand on John’s chest and his fingertips slowly traced the contours of the ribs. John smiled in encouragement and shifted himself closer. He didn’t fail to notice the blush on his lover’s cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” John whispered, mesmerized by the anticipation. “Every time you look at me... if you only knew what you do to me, just the look...”

But Freddie didn’t proceed. Instead, he recoiled a bit, and John’s throat tightened.

“Freddie?”

“You have no idea...,” Freddie said, his face twisted with a painful memory, “how you looked... that day they brought you to me, rescued from the tank. You... you were so pale and scrawny, skin and bones, shivering in fever. And when Atkins pricked you with all those infusions and shots, he left us alone, and I sat on your bed and... and I begged you to wake up. And then you did... but... couldn’t... And I washed you, I fed you with a spoon, and you didn’t...”

“I know...,” John gently led Freddie to the sofa and sat him down, his expression soft. He never wanted his lover to feel that way. “... I’m sorry...”

Freddie looked up and his eyes filled with tears. He wanted this as much as John did, but... “Every time I look at you, I see that,” he said and his voice broke. “Just so... small and fragile and I-”

“You won’t hurt me,” John sat down as well and shifted closer, almost on Freddie’s lap. “I’m back, and healthy, and I... understand, I... I’m afraid too, but we can’t just dance around each other when I need... and you need... more.”

Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed away the tears from Freddie’s eyes. “Feel me, lover,” he said and led Freddie’s hand back onto his body, “just see what’s under your hands, nothing more.” 

Freddie touched, his both hands running over John’s body. Through the layer of fabric, he could feel the hot skin, the muscles moving underneath, every little prominence and depression. He could even feel a little sweat appearing on John’s back and breathing getting deeper. The living, needing body of his beloved. John smiled tenderly and led Freddie’s head down on his chest, so he could hear. 

Strong heart was beating its fast, steady rhythm.

“Come to me, lover,” John whispered and pulled Freddie back to face him. “Do you hear me now? This is me now, all of me, and all yours, only yours...”

He went for yet another kiss, and this time Freddie didn’t fight back. His body loosened under John’s touch when he let himself be pushed in the middle of cushions, his hands blindly reaching until they settled on John’s hips. 

“Just like that...,” John said when they broke the kiss and nuzzled against Freddie’s cheek, “... lie down, lover, and I’ll show you... I’m back... and I’m strong... I can make you feel so good... and you’ll forget how I was.” His hands slipped under Freddie’s shirt and ran over his stomach. “I’m home... with you...”

Freddie’s breath hitched and his eyes widened. “Deaky... don’t...”

“Don’t?”

“Don’t stop...”

John smiled smugly. “That’s how I like it.”

For a long time they cuddled, caressed and kissed each other, then got up again to get rid of the clothes. Just to fasten the process, they both stripped themselves. There would be many hot undressing sessions in the future, but not tonight. Tonight, nothing would delay them from the main prize. John ran away to the kitchen just to return with a glass of slick alga extract, the same kind he used as a lube the last time.

“Some things just do the work,” he said and giggled. “Pants down, get on with it.”

Freddie thought his own heart would jump out through his throat, so hard it was beating. Losing the previous inhibitions, he knew he wanted this, more than anything. For two long years he waited and hoped and ached for his lost lover during long depressing bedroom sessions for one. Enough of those.  
Finally, he was naked, and looked up in eager expectation - to see John standing there motionless, trousers on the floor, suddenly hesitant, clutching the hem of his shirt.

Freddie gulped. “What is it? Deaky?”

“The... the scar,” John mumbled, looking away, and tugged the shirt down even more. “I... it’s really... nasty. Would you mind if... if I keep this on? I mean,” he giggled, “pants are the important part, aren’t they?”

“If you wish, darling,” Freddie made a step forward and took his lover in a tight embrace. “But... I love you, all of you, so do you think one little scar would drive me away?”

John stepped back with a sigh and lift his shirt just halfway. Thick white line cut all over his stomach from under the ribs to the hem of his underwear. “Not that little,” he mumbled.

Freddie used the situation, sank on his knees and kissed his lover’s belly. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

“Freddie!”

Instead of stopping, Freddie grabbed John’s hips and started planting soft tickly kisses all over the scar and the soft skin around it. From time to time, every fifth kiss or so, he leaned down to nuzzle against John’s cock, feeling its hotness against his cheek. John’s quiet pants and whimpers turned him on more than he even realized. 

“Somebody cries happy tears for me down here,” Freddie smiled and softly nibbled at the tip. “Hello, darling.”

John let out something between giggle and a moan, finally decided to tear his shirt off and throw it away, already dragging Freddie back onto the sofa. Yes, John’s cock already cried, and Freddie knew his own wasn’t much better off, he felt it painfully hard. The new friction against John’s body made him shiver.

“Deaky...,” he breathed, but John didn’t really listen in the moment, too busy throwing away his underwear and stretching himself as fast as possible, fingers slick with the alga. 

“Lover, I would do th-”

“Can’t wait!” John said, his cheeks flushed and eyes dark. “I need... you... and- oh!” He gasped when Freddie pushed in his own finger alongside two John’s.

“Good, lovie?” he asked and pressed a bit deeper in the tightness, wiggling around.

John moaned, sinking on the fingers, searching for the sensation like his life depended on it. In the moment, it almost seemed as if it did. And Freddie continued, eager and earnest, determined to make it good. John was falling apart, his free hand clutching the edge of the sofa. 

“So good... Freddie... I can... give...” Strong emotions made him incoherent again, but none of them really minded. “Please! Please! You!”

Freddie quickly dipped his hand in the alga and slid it over his cock, getting ready. “Spread your legs, lovie.”

With a whine, John threw his legs around him, and Freddie dragged all the fingers away. He felt he would explode, just seconds away from their connection, with John sweaty and needy under him. It was heaven and hell, deliciously combined.

“Ready?” he breathed. 

“Yes! God, yes, yes! Please!” 

John seemed he could come just from the anticipation alone, and truly didn’t last long when Freddie pushed himself in. His back arched and heels sunk deep in the pillows. “Freddie!” he let out a desperate cry. 

“Fuck! More!”

Freddie set on a rapid pace, chasing the relief he needed just as desperately as his lover. They came nearly in the same moment, John’s scream pushing Freddie over the edge.

 

It took a long time to get down from the haze, and their eyes met in a bliss. Long silence followed, as if the moment was just too precious and fragile.

“Thinking?” John asked and his eyes shined.

“About Rhye,” Freddie smiled a bit, glancing at one of his paintings on the wall. “Remember?”

“Your dreamland,” John turned a bit to lay his head on Freddie’s shoulder more comfortably, “I remember... Freddie?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I love you. So... so much. You... must never forget that.”

Freddie gently touched John’s hand and squeezed it. “I love you too, my dear.”


	38. Needing Stars of Loveliness

After the events of the Carnim Square and Roger’s forced absence, rebels decided to take a break from public performances, at least for a while. Brian agreed with the idea at first, but then... weeks passed. Two bloody weeks of him stuck in Rockfield mines and Freddie and Deaky either absent, or all over each other... it felt like hell, in a very literal sense.  
Every evening, he jumped on whoever had the Roger-duty and asked about everything – what Roger ate, how Roger slept, what Roger did, where Roger went, how did his face look like. From what the poor victims managed to convey, it seemed the drummer’s days were at least as boring as Brian’s. Morning, work, home... Quite often he lurked around Central Childhood Centre, watching Clare. Shortly before the incident with snipers, Roger had returned home, beaming with pride and announced he’d seen Clare throw away her DHA pills. 

“She’s a natural born Rebel, Bri!” Roger seemed at least three feet taller in his brotherly pride. “If we don’t get the Institute on its knees, she will!”  


 

And today... today was the day when Freddie decided to once again meet in the studio, so far without Roger, and at least think about their plans.  
Even without the hot-headed blond, it was safe to say, the opinions clashed.

“I said it before, and I’ll say it again!” Brian said and spread his arms with visible frustration and an apparent anxiety written all over his face. “I am not doing that, Freddie, I’m not going to play out there.”

Freddie just frowned and his legs dangled, too short to reach the ground from the table he’d sat on. “Darling, be reasonable. It felt just so much better to-”

“People died, Fred, the answer is no. And by the way, Deaks,” Brian turned to the bassist, innocently seated on the drum risers, “the song you gave us yesterday...”

“Yes?”

Brian exhaled. “Look, I’m really happy you wrote something, and make no mistake, it is really good, but don’t you think it’s a bit...,” he hesitated, “... inappropriate?”

John raised an eyebrow. “Inappropriate?”

“Yes, inappropriate,” Brian waved the paper he was holding, “can’t you see? There was a massacre, and the first song you want us to play for public is “Another one bites the Dust”? Seriously?”

“Brian, dear... we talked about this,” Freddie said, “we need to arouse people, make them angry.”

“Well, so far you managed with me,” Brian huffed and sat down back his stool. “I stand behind my word, and if Roger were here, he’d agree with me. We need to persuade people for our cause – do you think a song about bullets that “rip in the sound of the beat” is going to do that?”

“Still better than whining,” John retorted, “which is all you do in your songs.”

“I think I liked you better mute.”

“Oh, shut up! What if you just admit that the songs aren’t the problem? Roger is. Since he’s unavailable, you’ve been obnoxious.”

“Obnoxious?” Brian sharply got up, the shadow of reconciliation gone immediately. “Obnoxious? Questioning people’s safety and not letting you just gloss it over is obnoxious?”

“Do you really think I’m glossing it over?” John snapped. “I’ve been there, right next to Roger! Right in the middle of the mess that happened because you couldn’t hold your ego in check and just had to prance around!”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter when Freddie’s prancing around, judging from the kicks you get from it. The sex must be really magical, two weeks of it turned you into a little bitch!”

Freddie cleared his throat. “Darlings, I really don’t think-”

“Just let him be, Freddie,” John said with faked tiredness and ran his hand over his face, “we both know he’ll just keep whining until he gets his way, as always.” 

“Well, I’m sorry for saying anything!”

“What the fuck is happening here!” new voice suddenly sounded from the door. “I’m gone for three weeks!”

Brian turned around so sharply his neck cracked. “Roger!” he gasped, and his hazel eyes lit up, suddenly changing the whole expression. “You’re back! Are-are you alright?”

“Yeah...,” Roger shrugged, “Miami concluded nobody’s watching me, so... I’m free to come here to find this...” blue eyes ran over the studio, “... whatever this was between you two.”

“Well, it’s been a little tense,” Brian nearly ran the few steps to take the blond in his arms and press him firmly. “I was so worried,” he whispered, and his voice sounded strained and shaken, “so, so much Rog, I... never do anything like that again.”

“Get shot, you mean?” Roger’s voice was muffled against Brian’s shoulder. “Sure as hell it isn’t on my schedule at least for another week, love, don’t worry.”

“I need to see you alone, right now, can’t wait-”

John got up. “Wait, the song-”

“Yeah, yeah, keep the song, cool riff, excuse us,” Brian grabbed Roger who managed one apologetic smile before being pulled out of the studio.

They ran together down the dark hallway from the studio until Brian just stopped and pushed Roger firmly to a wall, dragging him into a kiss. It wasn’t anything like the sweet, loving touches and pecks Brian had given before, Roger felt the need, the heat, the drive, the something... something that has never been there before. Brian forced his tongue into his mouth and Roger opened willingly.

“Brian...,” he whispered when they parted, trapped between his lover and the cold stone, and God, wasn’t that turning him on. “Brian...”

“You scared me to death...,” Brian confessed breathlessly and pressed his face against Roger’s cheek, as if he hoped they’d just blend together, never to be parted, “... I missed you, so goddamn much, missed you so much...”

“I missed you too,” Roger held onto Brian to steady himself, his head hazy not only from the lack of air, “so much... every night in my bed, I need you there.”

“I need you too,” Brian pulled himself a bit further to look his lover in the eyes, breathing heavily, “need you too... want you... need you now. Right now, Rog.”

Not even Roger with his limited experience could misunderstand the plea and his eyes widened. “Where?” he asked, trying to hold the shiver of his voice.

“Infirmary.”

 

Miami raised an eyebrow, when the couple ran around him through the headquarters and briefly greeted few other rebels currently present, but showed a small smile, once he realized where the two were heading.

Brian and Roger saw none of that. Luckily, the infirmary itself was empty. Brian managed to steal several deep kisses as they both sunk onto one of the camp beds, before their eyes met again and the time as if slowed down. Brian touched Roger’s cheek, so softly and gently, as if he was touching a fragile, precious jewel, fleeting like butterfly wings.

“You want this, Bri?” Roger asked, struggle to breathe apparent in his voice. “Why now?”

“There was a moment...,” Brian’s hand slid lower over Roger’s neck to the buttons of his shirt, but his eyes didn’t leave his lover’s face, “... after the concert, when Deaky came and told us you were shot. I didn’t know if you were alive or dead, and in that moment, I closed my eyes and prayed, I begged to get to see you again, and I promised myself that if I do... once I do... I’ll treat it as it is – a gift. A gift I never thought I would ever get, but I did, to be wanted and... to want as well.”

“I want you,” Roger said, and his soft voice quietly rasped, “I missed you... I love you.”

Brian grinned. “Love me less or more than your car?”

Roger glared. “You’re a bloody damn fucker, sometimes, Brian May, aren’t you?”

The bed squeaked when Brian shifted himself closer, cheeky smile on his face, when he whispered: “I think you know me better than I do. And that’s perhaps for the best. I love you too. More than I ever imagined possible.”

This time Roger went for a kiss himself, while Brian worked on his shirt. Slowly, they managed to strip each other, their hands increasingly clumsy.

Brian was hesitant what position should he choose for Roger’s first time, what would feel the best, until Roger just solved all the considerations by laying down on his back, pulling Brian with him, and wrapping his legs around his lover.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” he confessed hotly, “please, Bri, I... please, hurry up.” 

“I’ve got you,” Brian coated his fingers in a vaseline from the bedside table and looked down on Roger in worry, “just please, if anything-”

“Get on with it, Brian, or I swear I’ll just walk away if you-ah!” He gasped when Brian pushed a finger inside him, maybe a tad more forcefully than he intended to, but Roger surely wasn’t one to complain.

“Walk away?” Brian whispered and started moving his finger, teasing Roger’s entrance and pushing further. “Tell me more about that one. Would you walk away like this?”

He curled his fingers to brush against the spot he’d been searching for, and Roger let out a small whimper. At this point he was furiously blushing, and his blue eyes got a feverish glow. To be honest, Brian wasn’t much better off, his cock hard and torturously brushing against Roger’s thigh, almost by instinct.

“Or like this?” he continued, teasingly adding second finger. “I can turn you on like nobody else ever could, Rog, and then I’ll be the one who walks away and leaves you hanging. Though... not really hanging,” Brian turned himself a bit and his cock slid against Roger’s, while he started scissoring his fingers, stretching his lover properly and thoroughly. 

Roger let out a desperate sound from the back of his throat. “N-need you,” he panted, “Bri, don’t leave, please, please, oh fuck, ah!”

“Is this alright?”

“Yes, yes, just, do more, please, do more!”

“I’ve got you,” Brian whispered, “and I’d never dream of leaving, I promise. You’re the most amazing creature I’ve ever met, and I love you... to touch you, to taste you, to hear you... Relax for me...”

Roger felt that demand almost cruel, how was he supposed to relax with three fingers moving deep inside him, igniting that torturous heat that made his body writhe and glisten with sweat. Even the voice itself fed the fire.

Then Brian pulled his fingers out, but before could Roger mourn their absence, they were exchanged by something else, bigger and longer. Roger’s eyes widened, this was the first time he felt such stretch and it was... divine. Not good, not bad, just different, incredibly intense and he’d kill anyone who’d try to take it away. 

Brian was slowly pushing himself in, determined not to rush anything, but the tightness and pressure were more than he accounted for, better than he ever remembered.

“Rog...,” he whimpered, his voice about two octaves higher, “you... fuck, Rog...” He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling he could easily come the very second he bottomed out and Roger clenched around him. Deep breaths... Brian, come on... deep breaths...

Slowly, he began to move, and Roger tensed under him, clawing his nails in the skin of Brian’s back.

“Please...,” Roger begged again, his face twisted in a helpless pleasure, vulnerable and needy, “... you must, I can’t anymore, I need to... Do something, something! Brian! Brian!”

Brian sped up the pace, trying desperately to hold himself as long as possible, but luckily, Roger didn’t seem far away from his own climax either. 

They came not even five seconds from each other, and it was like an electric shock ran through Brian’s body, his back arched in a deep spasm as he came with a scream, lost in the sensation and connection with the man he waited so long for. Like they both just went to another world where their bodies combined, and no one could know where one ends and the other one begins.

It took so little time, few seconds if only, and yet... when Brian opened his eyes to see the exhausted baby blues watching him with such fulfilment, something inside him melted, a wall of ice and concrete collapsing with an unstoppable crumble.

Roger sobbed, but when Brian wanted to address that, he just pressed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“You seemed to like it,” Roger smiled and ran his hand through Brian’s curls, tugging teasingly, “I never realised how much these walls resonate.”

Brian chuckled and glanced around. “Do you think they heard us?”

“I’d be quite concerned if they didn’t,” Roger quipped. “We should get back. And... I suggest you carry me from here. Just, you know,” he bashfully fluttered his eyelashes, “just in case.”

 

It actually took another half an hour before the couple appeared in the studio. Freddie and John didn’t seem to mind the long absence, and the atmosphere seemed quite relaxed, with the two leaned over some sheet of music, quietly discussing rewrites.

“Nice of you to join us, dears,” Freddie turned around as he heard his friends enter and smiled, “just in time.”

A bit worried, Brian glanced after John, but the bassist seemed in a better mood as well. The fact that Freddie’s lips looked suspiciously swollen might have had something to do with it.

“So, ehm...,” Brian nervously sat down back on his stool and Roger slid happily behind his drums giving the snare several teasing hits, as if saying hello. “What were we talking about? John’s song?”

Freddie waved his hand. “Forgive me when I say, dear, that I’d rather keep that issue closed. There’s something... more important to talk about. I’ve waited until there’s all four of us.”

“What is it?” Roger squinted his eyes, studying the look on Freddie’s face.

“It’s actually... also about the shooting. But not only about that,” Freddie hesitated and let several sheets of paper run through his fingers. “I just think we cannot continue the same way we used to, not anymore.”

John frowned. “Why not?”

“We achieved everything we could with this kind of shows,” Freddie said. “If we continue the same way, it brings nothing new, no progress and only increases the risk. We must change our strategy. We need more.”

“More?” Brian repeated. “Fred, there’s only that much we can do. We can’t announce our concerts, we can’t make them longer, we can’t-”

“We can,” Freddie interrupted him, and a spark appeared in his eyes, “and we will. I already talked with Miami, and he agrees it’s possible. We won’t do small shows for people randomly going around anymore, but for everyone.”

If he expected some deafening applause, Freddie had to be largely disappointed, because the other men exchanged confused glances. 

“What do you mean by everyone?” John asked. “We already do them in public, it can’t go much more “everyone” than that.”

“By everyone, darling, I truly mean everyone. We’re going to play in here – and broadcast to a wider area than ever,” he couldn’t hold an excited smile, “to the whole planet.”

Roger got up, wide-eyed. “Freddie, you can’t seriously be considering-”

“Miami said it could work, after some preparation,” Freddie shrugged as if just bored by insignificant difficulties on his way. “He’ll manage to hack into the whole network of public speakers. All over Queen. We’ll be everywhere.”

“Institute won’t like that,” Brian said and gave Freddie a stern look.

“That’s kind of the idea, dear.”

“You know what I mean, Fred,” Brian insisted. “The snipers were nothing compared to what they can do if we cross the line, because make no mistake, so far we safely didn’t. And I won’t even mention that you and Roger still have your circuits, they can kill you through those on a spot!”

“This is a blind zone, dear,” Freddie reminded, “they can’t see us in here and we’re not going anywhere.”

“I suppose,” Brian glanced back at Roger, “you can’t have it removed?”

Roger shook his head. “Only the neurosurgeons of the Institute can do that,” he explained, “and believe it or not, so far the Rebellion hadn’t snatched one.”

“This isn’t about circuits,” Freddie raised his voice, “don’t you understand? It’s a risk, of course it is, but if we continue our shows as we used to, they’re going to catch us eventually – without us achieving the purpose of it all! And we can’t stop either. Step up our game, that’s the only option. And show RISUGI they can pull as many snipers as they want, we won’t back down, and we’ll never give up. We’ll make the largest concert in the history of Queen – and whatever their response will be, we can deal with it as it comes. We need to show what we’re made of - a greatness.” Freddie’s eyes shined. “We’ll make our stand and become what we’re meant to be from the beginning – the wave of change, that will sweep the Institute off its feet and bury it deep into the ground, while we reach for the sky. What do we risk, except for what we’re risking already? What do we have to lose?”

Dark eyes ran over the room, and Brian softly exhaled. He agreed with most of Freddie’s arguments but that didn’t stop his heart from beating twice the normal speed. But, when he exchanged another look with Roger, he knew that if they stopped now and denied Freddie’s idea, whatever it may bring... he’d never stop asking himself “what if”. 

“It’s really... risky,” he said and looked back at Freddie, “but the only way how to be safe long-term is... to win. So, yes, let’s do it.”

John gave Brian a bittersweet smile. “You’re right,” he said quietly, “they wanted us dead since we came and won’t stop no matter what we do. One concert won’t change it, but you... Freddie, Rog... are you sure?”

“If the bullet went three centimetres to the left,” Roger said and his shoulders jerked, “I’d be dead already. And this can work. It feels quite exciting, actually. Go big or go home, am I right?” he grinned. 

“Absolutely right, darling,” Freddie beamed and clapped. “So that’s settled. It’s time for Queen to see just what four misfits like us can do. It’s our time to shine – and we will.”


	39. We Are the Champions

The whole Rockfield was boiling that morning. All gathered rebels were chatty, excited and busy, because today was the day. The pinnacle of efforts from the last nearly two years – today, even just for a little while, the Rebellion was to dominate the planet.

“Miami said he could provide around twenty minutes of broadcast,” Brian mumbled to Roger, and embraced his shoulders tighter.

“Ten minutes to break the code he’ll be using,” Roger nodded, “and ten minutes before that to figure what code exactly is there to break,” he looked up with a soft smile. “We’ve all been there when he said it, Bri.”

“I’m sorry, I...,” Brian leaned more against the cold wall and closed his eyes, “... I’m just nervous, I guess.”

Roger’s fingers kept twitching restlessly. They had to give up their instruments for a moment so Miami and John could connect everything to the sound system and computers correctly, to make sure all the sounds were broadcasted with as much detail as possible.

All over the Queen. Brian swallowed the bile from his throat. They’ll be everywhere. And then? What will happen then? Who can say?

“I’m nervous too,” Roger said with a soft shudder, pulled a bit back from the embrace and straightened up. “I mean... we’re doing this. Like for real. Like all that stuff before had been just playing around.”

Brian nodded. “Feels like it.”

Freddie was sitting at his table, watching John work, and tried to look relaxed and casual. He’d maybe fool someone who wouldn’t know him, but not Brian and certainly not Roger. They both watched their singer mumble soundlessly the lines he remembered by heart already. It all depended on him, he knew that. He opened the whole thing. His keyboard, his song, his voice.

“Fred?” Brian called over the studio.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna... join us here?” he offered and stepped away from Roger to make room. Freddie accepted gratefully and all three squeezed themselves together.

John dryly cleared his throat. “Am I being left out?”

“Sorry, Deaks,” Roger stuck out his head and smirked, “full capacity.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

With laughter, John was dragged into the group hug and pressed tight, just for the good measure, until Miami announced everything ready.

Freddie grinned. “Let’s go, darlings,” his eyes shined, “today, we’ll punch a hole in the sky.”

 

Their instruments were prepared not in the studio, but in the main hallway which had a better acoustic for this kind of thing. Brian realized the whole Rebellion, all the people touched by their music so much it had moved them to fight for what’s right, all of them were in there as well, waiting and buzzing in excitement.

The horrendously loud applause made John almost stumble, taken aback.

Miami grinned and pointed around at the instruments. “All set and ready,” he said, “we’ll be transmitting real-time. And the screen over there shows footage from the Central Square. It might be an interesting sight.”

“There’s lots of people,” John mumbled.

“There are lots of people in general,” Miami reminded, “and I don’t think there’s a single place on this damn planet soundproof enough to be safe from you boys today.” He smiled. “Ready?”

Freddie looked over Brian and John taking their guitars and Roger settling himself behind the drums, and then nodded. 

Miami quickly settled behind his computer and apparent giddiness battled the worry in his face. Freddie headed to his keyboard and tried to hide his shaky knees. Here it comes.  
All the rebels went quiet and everybody watched Miami’s hand showing the countdown. 

Three... two... one...

Freddie breathed out and his hands touched the keys, starting a sweet, magical melody.

On the screen they could see how all the people out there perked up, looking around for the source of music, expecting to find Freddie dancing around as usual, but no...  
Today, he was everywhere.  
Freddie sang.

 

MAMA... I KILLED A MAN. PUT A GUN AGAINST HIS HEAD, PULLED MY TRIGGER, NOW HE’S DEAD. MAMA... LIFE HAS JUST BEGUN AND NOW I’M GONNA THROW IT ALL AWAY...

 

Roger’s soft cymbals joined the piano and faithful bassline, and the drummer himself felt a delightful freeze running down his back. All the rebels listened with their eyes widened in amazement, watching their heroes changing history.

 

MAMA... OOH... DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE YOU CRY, IF I’M NOT BACK AGAIN THIS TIME TOMORROW, CARRY ON... CARRY ON... AS IF NOTHING REALLY MATTERS....

 

Freddie threw a quick glance at John and blew him a short kiss, making him giggle. Brian stared in amazement, his mouth dry.

 

TOO LATE, MY TIME HAS COME, SENDS SHIVERS DOWN MY SPINE, BODY’S ACHING ALL THE TIME. GOODBYE EVERYBODY, I’VE GOT TO GO, GOTTA LEAVE YOU ALL BEHIND AND FACE THE TRUTH!  
MAMA... OOH... I DON’T WANNA DIE... SOMETIMES I WISH I’VE NEVER BEEN BORN AT ALL...

 

“What is this!” John Reid burst in anger when Prenter, white in the pace, ran into his office. 

“Sir-“

“What is this! Where are they playing? I want them shot, I want them gone!” 

Brian’s guitar solo resonated the air all over the town. Nobody could escape – and rarely anyone wanted to.

“Sheffield’s working on it,” Prenter said and his fists tightened. “We’ll shut that stupid mouth.”

 

I’D SIT ALONE AND WATCH YOUR LIGHT, MY ONLY FRIEND THROUGH TEENAGE NIGHTS, AND EVERYTHING I HAD TO KNOW, I HEARD IT ON MY RADIO!

 

“I can’t listen to this,” Reid snapped and ran to the window to close it, but then looked out. “There are people in the streets! Bloody singing in the streets!”

“Hm...,” Prenter replied without some more ideas.

Reid grabbed his upper arm and dragged him out of the office.

“Sir, where-”

“A visit to Sheffied! In person!” 

Reid looked so furious people passing him on the corridor basically jumped out of his way and tried to pretend they did not hear the melody, easily audible even there.  
All around the world, people listened. They didn’t understand how, but they knew why, who – and that’s all that mattered. The crowd in front of RISUGI started clapping to the rhythm.

 

Brian turned around and saw Roger, watching him with a furious pride and love in his eyes. Never before, he felt as whole, such a part of something big as now.  
Freddie was filled with a magnetizing energy and even in the mine, deep under the ground, he couldn’t help but prance around, making a show.

 

“AND EVERYBODY!” he exclaimed.  
ALL WE HEAR IS RADIO GA GA! RADIO GOO GOO! RADIO GAGA! 

 

A certain blond-haired girl in Central Childhood Centre had a math lecture when the music started, and the whole class gave in, rocking away to the rhythm despite their teacher’s best efforts.

“No, no! Girls, you can’t listen to that, focus on the board, now! Ignore it!”

 

ALL WE HEAR IS RADIO GA GA, RADIO BLAH BLAH! RADIO, WHAT’S NEW? RADIO, SOMEONE STILL LOVES YOU!

Class dismissed.

 

“Sheffied!” Reid screamed and busted in the Department of Informational Technologies. “What the hell is taking you so long!”

The man raised his hands in defence. “We’re working on it, sir. They hacked into the network of emergency intercoms. It’ll take a while until we break the code.”

“Just shut it down, man, now! People are going insane in the streets! Jumping and clapping!”

“The rebels have taken control over the system,” Sheffied said. His tone was dry despite Reid furiously screaming just two meters from him, “so I suggest you stay quiet and let me work, the music is already distracting enough.”

Suddenly, the song stopped. Quiet.

All the men looked at each other, bit unsurely. What now?

 

EEEEYOH! 

 

Jim couldn’t make it to Rockfield that day, being stuck at work at Capital’s largest shopping centre. The whole place was crowded with people and after the concert had started, everything turned into a complete frenzy. Jim beamed.

EEEYOH!

The crowd gave its roaring answer EEEEEEYOH! and all the shelves and glass showcases vibrated with the sheer volume of music, hundreds of voices united in the dense excitement.

EEEEYOH!

EEEEEEEEEYOH! Jim called at the top of his lungs along with all the others.

 

“Mr. Reid, sir!” another man ran into Sheffield’s office, holding his hip. “They’re all singing, everyone!”

“I can bloody see that!” 

“No, sir, you don’t understand!” the man insisted. “Not just here, all over the place! People all over the planet are singing along with... that! We’re getting urgent phone calls, local captains are asking for instructions.”

Reid just sighed and waved his hand, not even bothering to answer. He had to hold himself not to cover his ears in frustration, but that wouldn’t be of any help anyway. Never in his life he felt so utterly and completely humiliated.

 

EEEEYOH! Freddie called.

EEEEYOH!

ALRIGHT!

ALRIGHT! 

Several glass tables cracked. 

HEYHEYHEYHEY – HAMMER TO FALL!

 

Brian dug into his prelude with sheer excitement and just the sound of Roger’s drums in perfect synchrony sent his mind soaring high. He felt invigorated, invincible. And all the dread he’d been through suddenly dissolved into nothing. 

The whole world was hanging on the tunes of his guitar. He was a God.

 

HERE WE STAND, OR HERE WE FALL, HISTORY WON’T CARE AT ALL! MAKE THE BED, LIGHT THE LIGHT, LADY MERCY WON’T BE HOME TONIGHT!  
YOU DON’T WASTE NO TIME AT ALL, DON’T HEAR THE BELL BUT YOU ANSWER THE CALL. IT COMES TO YOU AS TO US ALL, YEAH, WE’RE JUST WAITING FOR THE HAMMER TO FALL, YEAH!

 

The deputy captain of the Special forces was trying in vain to get Prenter on the phone, desperately pleading for instructions. She got none. So instead, she threw the phone away to the bin, and grabbed the hand of her secretary, a girl she felt very fond of for some time already, to drag her out of the office to join the crowd in the streets, to sing and to dance in the boiling pit of crazy only Freddie’s voice could create.

Nothing made sense anymore, all the rules broken, and God, didn’t everybody love it.

TOW THE LINE AND PLAY THEIR GAME, LET THE ANESTHETIC COVER IT ALL, ‘TIL ONE DAY THEY CALL YOUR NAME, YOU KNOW IT’S TIME FOR THE HAMMER TO FALL.

The seemed like the ground itself started shaking under the millions of stomping feet.

RICH OR POOR OR FAMOUS, FOR YOUR TRUTH IS ALL THE SAME! OH NO! OH NO!

 

„This is enough!“ Reid exclaimed and smacked one of the techs near him who dared to tap his foot in the omnipresent rhythm. 

They could hear singing somewhere in the corridors of RISUGI, but nobody felt like going there and chastise the offenders. Because this wasn’t just Freddie singing, oh no. This was everybody.

Prenter was leaning against the wall with a slightly bored expression on his face.

“Did you know,” he said, checking his perfectly manicured nails, “there’s a thing called mob psychosis? They say that-”

“Prenter?” Reid turned to him.

“Yes, sir?”

“SHUT UP!” 

Reid’s eyes were glowing with vengeful fury. “Someone’s going to pay for this,” he mumbled. “Wasn’t it Foster’s task to catch Mercury before the man causes any more damage?”

Prenter tried to hide a smile. “I believe so, sir.”

“Send for him. To my office, immediately.”

 

Down in the Rockfield, Freddie was on the cloud nine. This was his life’s purpose, this, he knew now, surrounded by the family he found, with Deaky bopping wildly with his bass, defying all the rules of the art of dance. It sent warm shiver right in his belly.  
When this is over... Freddie thought and John had to catch his glance, because when their eyes met, he smiled.  
Just for a short second, because needed to focus, to be perfect. And the mesmerized crowd of their fellow rebels showed that they were... perhaps something very similar to that.

 

WHAT THE HELL WE’RE FIGHTING FOR? AH, JUST SURRENDER AND IT WON’T HURT AT ALL. YOU JUST GOT TIME TO SAY YOUR PRAYERS WHILE YOU’RE WAITING FOR THE HAMMER TO, HAMMER TO FALL!

 

Foster was sitting in his office, alone, with wet cotton balls stuck deep in his ears, though not even that helped. The message from Reid didn’t surprise him.  
He was done, he knew that much. His position, his career for sure. Maybe... maybe his life as well. He recognized a lost game when he saw it.  
Slowly, very slowly, the Head of the Department of Security got up from his table, walked over to the large window and opened it.

 

“Did you find how to shut them up already?” Reid demanded, pacing around the room while Sheffield and his programmers worked on their computers.  
“Almost. It’ll take around three or four more minutes.”  
“And where the hell is Foster!”

 

After the last tunes of Hammer to Fall, Freddie allowed himself several seconds of silence, and quietly moved over to the keyboard. The air in the mine was filled with an electric anticipation. 

Roger’s eyes met with Brian’s. They were just looking at each other, and it felt a lot longer than it actually was.  
John gave Freddie one of his softest smiles, and that was all the singer needed to start the last piece.

Brian mouthed all the words along, because suddenly... it felt like the song spoke from the very depths of his heart. 

 

I’VE PAID MY DUES... TIME AFTER TIME... I’VE DONE MY SENTENCE BUT COMMITED NO CRIME. AND BAD MISTAKES I’VE MADE A FEW. I’VE HAD MY SHARE OF SAND KICKED IN MY FACE BUT I’VE COME THROUGH!  
WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, MY FRIENDS, AND WE’LL KEEP ON FIGHTING ‘TILL THE END! WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, NO TIME FOR LOSERS ‘CAUSE WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD!

 

Silently, Foster watched the crowd gathered all around the main square and all over the streets, as far as he could see. People, people everywhere, singing along that voice that seemed to come straight from heavens. 

With a small chuckle, he remembered the day when he picked up those two poor little astronauts deep in the desert, next to the solar panels. Ages, ages ago... that was a different world. The one he belonged to.

 

.... BUT IT’S BEEN NO BED OF ROSES, NO PLEASURE CRUISE, I CONSIDER IT A CHALLENGE BEFORE THE WHOLE HUMAN RACE AND I AIN’T GONNA LOSE!

 

Slowly, Foster sat down on the windowsill and turned around, so his legs dangled out into the deep void of ten floors.

Then he jumped.

Most of the people down there didn’t even notice until much later, all lost in one glorious unison.

 

WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, MY FRIENDS, AND WE’LL KEEP ON FIGHTING ‘TIL THE END! WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS! NO TIME FOR LOSERS ‘CAUSE WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS... 

 

“We’ve broken the code, sir, we can now disconnect the speakers!”

“Then do it, you idiot, do it now!”

 

... OF THE WORLD!

 

And the speakers went silent.

 

Freddie was sitting at his piano, breathing heavily, while the whole hallway of Rockfield mines just stood silent, absorbing the slowly fading spell.

And then... the real hell broke loose. The rebels ran over to the band, and Brian found himself lost in all the screeching and congratulating bundle of limbs, people hugging him, shaking his hands, even kissing his cheeks – until he felt a touch on his lips directly. Quickly he wanted to shake the attacker away, but Roger held steady.

“We did it,” the drummer shined with sweat and adrenaline, and his eyes seemed even bigger than usual, “we fucking did it! Have you seen that screen?”

“Yeah,” Brian breathed and kissed Roger back while the cheering around them amplified to a point when Miami started to be seriously concerned about the ceiling.

“I love you!” John screamed in Freddie’s ear, holding him tight.

“You’re brilliant, darling!” Freddie gave John one more squeeze in his embrace before they turned to the other couple. “Bri, Rog! We did it!”

“We did it!” Roger cheered and threw the drumsticks far away over the heads of their fellow rebels just for the heck of it. “The whole planet! Do you know what that is? Just imagine Reid’s face, God, I’m dying!”

“Surely delighted,” John agreed with a dry smile and his eyes twinkled, “he’ll have Foster’s head for this one, for sure.”

“Quite sure, darling!” Freddie once again kissed John on both cheeks. “And Bri, dear, did you- eh, Brian?”

Now they all noticed. Brian was just standing there, staring blankly, and his skin got a pale ashen colour.  
The cheering faded.

“He’s gonna faint!” John exclaimed, and Roger quickly jumped for support.

“No- I- I’m alright, I-”

“No, come on, Bri, love, come here, sit down...,” Roger coaxed him gently, leading Brian to Freddie’s piano stool, “... here, sit. Can anybody get us some water?”

Brian reached for John’s hand. “Deaks?”

“Yes?”

“Could you... could you repeat the last thing you said once again?”

John frowned. “I said... that Reid would have Foster’s head for this one. Why?”

Brian gulped, feeling his throat suddenly dry. “Because... Reid... that was the reward he promised me for... the job.”

Roger’s eyes widened. “The job you did for them? In the last two years? You remember?”

“Yeah...,” Brian shakily nodded while his stomach threatened to turn inside out any minute, “... I remember... everything.”


	40. Russian Roulette for Me

The infirmary was fairly quiet, though they could hear voices buzzing from the main hallway. Brian patiently watched doctor Atkins taking his blood pressure. At least nobody was asking him questions. He could make some order in his own head.

Freddie, Roger and John were sitting at the opposite bed, and Brian couldn’t miss the anxious glances they exchanged.

“I... I should tell you what I remember,” he started, looking down, and his voice sounded hoarse. 

Roger quickly gave him a glass of water from the nightstand. “Hey, it’s alright, love,” he said and tried for an encouraging smile, “whatever happened, it’s alright. Just tell us.”

“The last thing you remembered before was talking to Reid and Prenter,” Freddie offered, “so... then what?”

Brian swallowed, watching his own hands fidget. The memories were still fresh and raw in his mind, uncomfortably so. “Reid told me he wanted me to work for him, in secret,” he said. “And if I do what he says to best of my abilities, he’d give me Foster’s head and make sure that John... won’t suffer much. He was... he was quite furious when he heard Foster had Deaky put in the tank.”

“I wasn’t really that thrilled either,” John agreed.

Brian smiled weakly. “He wanted us both but thought that even if they took Deaky out of the tank, he wouldn’t be able to recover anyway. So... there was just me.”

“But for what?” Roger asked, losing his patience. “What did he want from you, Bri, what did you do?”

“This planet is worse off than you think,” Brian said, his eyes serious, “the eugenics program runs on archived frozen cells for some time already. The ones from this generation are too damaged, even the best combinations. This is a dying world and Reid knows it. So, when Tim got here, years ago, and Reid learned Earth is real, he decided he would get out of here. Only him.”

John raised his eyebrows. “But if he knows it...,” he said slowly, “why would he stand against us? Why wouldn’t he help us to contact Earth and-”

“-and let somebody else take control over this planet?” Brian finished bitterly. “Reid would never openly admit his flawless system might be failing. He’d rather let this whole place die than let Queen slip out of control of his precious RISUGI.”

“But what did he want from you, Brian?” Freddie asked while his cheek twitched with anger. Roger rather didn’t speak at all.

Brian sighed. “Do you remember the time we ran from the Institute through the mines? After we found Tim? There was this huge building at the end of the tunnel.”

“It’s supposed to be a new factory,” Roger said. 

“It really is not. It’s a hangar,” Brian said, and his lips tightened, “a hangar for his spaceship. They had Tim’s ship de-assembled, but he kept the parts and circuits. From ours as well. Few engineers put it all together again. Reid wanted me to oversee the finishing touches, to make sure it’s functional and to calculate everything necessary for the trip. And I... did it.” Brian shuffled his feet. “I spent months locked in that room, making all the calculations and I... I couldn’t even remember why I was doing it, but I kept going, I was so... confused, how did I get there, when or why. I only knew what I had to do, so I did and kept going. I even designed a c-unit for him to travel in.”

“C-unit?” doctor Atkins asked while standing in the door, hesitant should he stay or leave.

“Cryo-unit. It’s normal for longer commercial flights,” John explained, “inside the solar system, maybe Alpha Centauri and its satellites. It keeps you asleep, close to coma, during the whole flight in temperature under zero to preserve all the bodily and mental functions in the best condition.”

“Why didn’t you two have one?” Freddie asked.

John chuckled. “They’re expensive. And we travelled a possibly dangerous route, so NASA preferred the crew fully awake. But if Brian remembered our data...?”

Brian nodded. “The captain won’t need to do much, just to keep the computer running, know the emergency protocols and how to operate the c-unit. That’s all. Reid picked one of the pilots from Prenter’s special forces, I taught the man all I could. And then... they put me to Trident and... you know the rest.”

During the long silence Brian sipped on his water. His body hurt, he felt dull, and wasn’t honestly sure how to wrap his head about all that. He just wanted Roger to cuddle with him under a warm blanket, nothing more.

“So...,” Freddie said, glancing over the others, “if they put you in Trident, Bri, – that means they’re finishing that thing by now?” 

“Bastard,” Roger mumbled, and his fists tightened, “I’ll break his teeth I swear. Why do the others even help him? Why does Prenter help him?”

“Because Prenter gets all this once Reid leaves,” Brian answered, “he told me. Reid maybe refuses to watch this place turn into ashes, but Prenter has no such scruples. He wants power and he doesn’t care. It’s him who wants this revolution destroyed, it doesn’t have to bother Reid all that much.”

“It does if we reveal his secret,” Freddie suddenly grinned. “Don’t forget we now have the whole planet listening to our every word, dear. And a scandal like this is just what we need to turn people against the Institute for good. We can do this, dears, first thing tomorrow.”

 

The lights of the infirmary were dimmed and all around got quiet. Brian softly sighed in relief and pulled Roger closer to him embrace. They were lying on the narrow bed, side by side, quietly enjoying the company of one another, just the two of them.

“How are you feeling?” Roger asked and softly buried his face deeper in Brian’s curls.

“A bit better,” Brian admitted, “though... I can’t help myself but think...”

“Yes?”

“About Reid,” he said. “He’s in charge of the whole planet, basically, no one from Queen is above him. Would he really leave all that for a chance to get to Earth?”

Roger pulled himself a bit further away to look him in the eyes. “It makes sense,” he took Brian’s hand and entangled their fingers together, “if it’s true what you said... about the state of... us. It will be impossible to make healthy children, in generation, perhaps two... Reid comes from a bloodline that was kept alive since The John Reid, the first one who came on Queen. He would do anything to keep the line, anyone would do the same.”

A little shadow of worry appeared in Brian’s chest when he asked quietly: “Do you care as well? Just as much? Because... you know you can’t have children with me, Rog, I... I’m a man.”

Roger chuckled. “Believe me, there was a point when I noticed.”

“But don’t you care? Still?”

“Probably,” Roger thought about it for a moment, “yes. Yes, I do, though... not as much as before. Back then when my own life sucked,” he chuckled, “passing myself on was the only purpose of it. But then we accidentally saved two weirdoes, and one of them just... turned everything upside down.” Roger leaned closer to give a soft kiss on Brian’s cheek. 

“Now I don’t care about the past, or the future, or genes or bloodline, or anything like that. I just want to be with you, and I’d do anything for it to stay so, as long as possible.”

“One day we can stop hiding,” Brian said, emotions squeezing his throat, “and all will be well. Everything. I love you, Roger, so... so much.”

Roger chuckled. “Yeah, you better, Bri.” 

 

“Brian! Rog!” The curtain separating the infirmary was slung open as John ran in. “Come! You have to hear this!”

Roger was on his feet in an instant. “Hear what?”

 

“It’s a broadcasting,” Miami explained when everybody gathered in the main hall around him and his computer, “the Institute is sending a message. To the whole planet, just as we did. I can play it from the network.”

“Play it,” Freddie asked, and Brian shivered at the echo around them.

Miami pressed the button.

“CITIZENS OF QUEEN,-“

“That’s not Reid,” Roger mumbled.

Brian nodded. “It’s Prenter.”

“-TODAY, WE’VE ALL BEEN WITNESSES TO AN ILLEGAL AND MOST UNSETTLING ACT OF VANDALISM. A GROUP OF REBELS COMMITED A SERIOUS CRIME, NOT ONLY AGAINST THE GOVERNMENT, BUT AGAINST THE SECURITY OF OUR PLANET AND ALL NORMS OF OUR SOCIETY AS WELL. WE ARE AWARE OF THE THOUGHTS THEY PREACH. BE WARNED, THOSE ARE WORDS OF DELUSION, WHICH CAN ONLY LEAD TO ANARCHY AND DESTROY EVERYTHING WE HOLD DEAR. THEREFORE, THESE PRACTICES WILL NOT BE FURTHER TOLERATED, AND IT IS A DUTY OF OUR SECURITY DEPARTMENT TO ENSURE THE DANGEROUS CRIMINALS ARE PUNISHED SEVERELY. IT DID NOT ESCAPE OUR NOTICE HOW MOST OF OUR CITIZENS DID NOT TREAT THIS HEINOUS ACT OF REBELION WITH THE ATTITUDE IT DESERVED. SOME EVEN EXPRESSED THEIR JOY ABOUT IT. SINCE TODAY, WE WILL NOT HESITATE TO USE ANY MEASURES NECESSARY TO BRING THESE CRIMINALS TO JUSTICE, AS WELL AS ANYONE WHO WOULD OPENLY SUPPORT THEIR BELIEFS OR HAD KNOWLEDGE ABOUT THEIR WHEREABOUTS.   
RISUGI WILL BE WAITING TWO HOURS FROM NOW FOR THE CRIMINAL BRIAN MAY TO TURN HIMSELF IN VOLUNTARILY AND TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR TODAY’S EVENTS. IF HE REFUSES TO DO SO, WE WILL BE FORCED TO DECLARE ALL OUR CITIZENS GUILTY OF AN OBSTRUCTION OF JUSTICE. THAT WOULD BE FOLLOWED BY AN EXEMPLARY PUNISHMENT. FROM ALL THE CITIZENS OF QUEEN, EVERY HUNDRETH PERSON WOULD BE CHOSEN AND EXECUTED. GIVE US BRIAN MAY, AND EVERYONE ELSE WILL BE SPARED. TWO HOURS, STARTING NOW.”

“They will do what?” Roger croaked when Prenter’s voice went silent.

Brian tried to hide the shiver in his voice when he asked. “Miami?”

“Yes?”

“How... how many people are on Queen?”

Miami glanced away. “Ten million. Every hundredth, that makes... a hundred thousand.”

Freddie let out a soft choking sound.

“No!” Roger exclaimed and hit the table with a fist. “No, he... can’t do that! That’s too much, that’s ridiculous! Reid would never allow this!”

“Reid doesn’t have to care,” Brian said, “as long as it doesn’t concern him or his pilot. All this will be Prenter’s.”

“What about Foster?”

“Foster’s dead,” Miami said, looking into his computer. “Suicide.”

“Shit,” John mumbled. “But he’s bluffing, Prenter’s bluffing, surely.”

Brian frowned. “We can’t know that, Deaks.”

“Of course, we can! This is preposterous!”

“It’s Prenter we’re talking about!” Brian snapped. “Don’t you understand? He’s more than able to do what he promised. They fear what we can do with the support of the public, so he rather puts an end to it for good.”

“People won’t stand for it,” John said. “They’ll march on the Institute if Prenter dares-”

“They’ll be terrified,” Brian interrupted him. “And for a good reason. He knows what he’s doing.” Softly, he turned to Roger and ran his fingers through the blond hair until he stopped on the integrated circuit behind Roger’s ear. “Does the blind zone keep people safe?” he asked.

Miami shook his head. “The zone keeps people safe from the detection scan, but a focused search to kill... no, I’m sorry.”

“So... it’s quite clear what to do.”

Roger raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

“You heard him!” Brian raised his voice in despair. “It’s either me or a hundred thousand people! There are priorities, don’t you think?”

“Yes, there are, and you’re fucking not going anywhere!”

“Are you serious?” Brian exclaimed and his eyes glistened with hurt. “Didn’t enough people die because of me already? They want me because of the ship! Even if I’m to be tortured, or killed or put in a tank for all I care-”

“Reid wants you because of the ship,” John said and crossed his arms on his chest, “but Prenter won’t leave you alone until you tell him everything about us, about Rockfield, about this whole Rebellion, and then he kills us all. And he’ll make it exemplary.”

There was a short silence after his words, before Brian mumbled: “Even if that happens, Deaks... there isn’t a hundred thousand of us.” He tried to avoid look at Roger. He felt sick and there was something incredibly heavy around his stomach. How... how could they even think they’d get away with this?

“You would sacrifice the whole rebellion?” Roger asked. “Not only everyone, but everything we fight for? Me, Freddie, John, everybody around here?”

“Do you really think anyone would listen to us if we let that massacre happen?” Brian replied bitterly. “They’ll hate us.”

“Or rally behind us.”

“Oh, please. How can people think we fight for their good when we remain crawled under the ground the very moment we’re supposed to protect them!”

“And this would protect them?” John asked with a sharp tone. “You turn yourself in, and then what? Reid leaves Queen with Prenter in charge. And he gets from you all the information about Rebellion, one way or another. Then, Prenter arrests and kills us all, that makes around... two hundred if I count the whole organisation. And then? Do you really think it would be over? Do you really think Prenter would be satisfied with just us being gone? You leave a rabid dog run free and expect him not to bite once he’d eaten?”

“Deaky is right,” Freddie said and took John’s hand. “We can’t play his game. We can’t give in, not now. It’s too late to stop it, people already changed. And if Prenter gets his way now and gets rid of us all, that won’t stop others to try for the same. Stand up against the Institute, again and again, over and over until this whole place falls into dust! The only way for us is forward, and see the end of this, whatever it may be.”

“This is the end, Fred,” Brian frowned. “You’re mad if you don’t accept it.”

“We don’t even know if he’s serious!” Roger grabbed Brian’s shoulders and shook him. “I can’t let you do this, I can’t, and I won’t!”

“Do you think I want to do it, Rog?” Brian pushed his lover away and his voice broke. “I’ve been in the hands of the Institute, it’s something I wouldn’t wish to my worst enemy. I know Prenter can be bluffing, but... even the possibility... I can’t choose to stay hidden and let so many die in my stead. I can’t do it in all conscience, Rog, I just... can’t.” He sounded weak and child-like, and rather turned his face away from the others, who kept their eyes on him.

“We’re all in the same situation, Bri,” Roger said. “You, John and Miami don’t have the circuits, but Freddie and I, and everybody else,” he gestured over the other twenty people gathered around, “it’s all the same. You can’t go, Bri, please, I beg you... I won’t let you go.”

Brian slowly breathed out and it felt like he could choke on the bitter tears he was trying to swallow. “I’m not asking for permission, Rog,” he said. “I just know that I wouldn’t... wouldn’t be able to live with that. There’s too much, and I... can’t take any more.”

“I won’t let you!” Roger exclaimed and grabbed Brian’s forearm. “Even if I should tie you to the bed, knock you out or anything like that, you’re not going! He can’t win!”

“So, if we let him kill innocents and do nothing, it’s our win?” Brian pushed him back. “You can say whatever you feel like, but you can’t change my decision. I either go or I spend the rest of my life knowing I could’ve saved them!”

“You won’t save anything either way!”

“There’s a chance that I will, and I have to take it!”

“No!”

“That’s enough!” John suddenly snapped. “I won’t have any of this!”

“You can’t stop me, Deaks,” Brian warned, “I’m going.”

The large underground space almost resonated with silence when John looked up, his eyes soft and sad. “I know you,” he said simply. “For some time already. I won’t be persuading you to stay, but... could we... talk before you go? Just the two of us, in private.”

Brian hesitated. John’s face, the pleading tone, it broke his heart a bit. And with all his strength he tried not to look at Roger.

“Infirmary?” John asked.

“Five minutes,” Brian said. “Then I go.”

 

“So?” Brian asked quietly, sat down on the bed and watched John pour them drink in two glasses.

“Do you remember the first time we drank this?” John smiled softly, handed him one and then sat down right beside him in quiet companionship. “The alga extract?”

“Of course. At Foster’s office, the day we arrived, he put roofies in,” Brian said, took a sip, and made a face, “it’s still disgusting.”

“Oh, shut up and drink,” John chucked. “I can’t believe it’s been years.”

Brian nodded. “Deaks... why did you want to talk to me?” His eyes pierced through John’s innocent face. “You know me, but I know you too. What’s this about?”

John’s lips tightened. “Perhaps it’s about me. For once. We can’t make you... stay here. No matter what we do, right?”

“I wish...,” Brian swallowed, “honest truth... you can. I’m trying to keep the decision final. It’s the right thing to do, but I’m not, I... it scares me to death, Deaks. I don’t want to do it, but if I decide to stay, and I feel you could convince me to stay... for Roger... or... everything we’ve been through, but if all those people die... You know what I mean, don’t you?” Brian’s mouth was dry, and he felt more than glad for the drink John gave him. Deaky... always there, always what he needed...

John nodded. “I know what you mean. And I wouldn’t have you any different,” he smiled. “A knight in a shining armour who protects the truth and fights for the helpless.”

“Please, just... look after Roger,” Brian looked firmly in John’s eyes. “Promise me, no matter what, you take care of him.”

“Making sure Roger Taylor DMD doesn’t do anything stupid?” John raised an eyebrow. “You’re not giving me an easy one, Bri. But I’ll do my best.” 

“So will I,” Brian whispered and caught his own head in his hands. It hurt a bit, he felt dizzy and didn’t want to go. He was tired, so tired...

“Are you alright?” John frowned and softly touched his shoulder. “Bri? Drink some more, come on. You’re talking about going to Institute, but honestly you look ready to pass out in the middle of a street.”

Brian smiled faintly and finished his glass with several gulps. “It’s... really hot in here,” he whispered, “I never really noticed how...,” he giggled, suddenly really confused about all this. He felt lighter, like flying.

“What about you lie down for a moment?” John suggested calmly.

“Wh- no! No, I have to go, I have to...”

“You’re not going anywhere, Brian, now lie down.”

“No!” Brian struggled slowly getting lost in a sweet fog surrounding his senses. 

John just grabbed him and pushed him back on the bed. “Once I said I trusted you with my life,” he said, “and that’s true, it really is. But only an idiot would ever trust you with yours. We won’t give you up because of Prenter’s threat, and we won’t let you do it either.”

“Stupid...,” Brian’s eyes fluttered shut when he slurred, “all... you... stupid...”

When he fell asleep, John gently tucked him in and turned to the door, where Freddie and Roger already stood, waiting.

“Is he alright?” Roger quickly walked over to Brian’s bed and touched his face. “How long...”

“Long enough for the time to run out,” John sighed. “Hopefully. What am I, a chemist? God, I hate this.”

Freddie nodded, and softly caressed his lover’s cheek. “You did wonderfully, darling.”

John bit his lip. “So, what now?”

“Now...,” Roger sat down by Brian’s side and took the limp hand in his, “now we wait. I don’t believe people in RISUGI would just let Prenter do it. It’s an empty threat – and it won’t work.”


	41. Was It All Worth It

Brian was waking up slowly, very, very slowly, and it took a while until he remembered why he was lying in that bed. Quickly, he jumped up and swayed when black dots danced around his eyes.

In the main hallway ruled an atmosphere of silent tension. All the rebels were gathered, pale and quiet. Roger was pacing like a tiger in his cage, opening his mouth every now and then as if he had something to say, but then realized he had nothing. John opted for sitting quietly in the corner and staring blankly in front of him, while Freddie by his side scribbled furiously into his little notebook of ideas, trying to hide the twitch of his fingers. The time was almost up.

_While the sun hangs in the sky and the desert has sand... Oh yes, we'll keep on trying to tread that fine line. Oh, we'll keep on trying, yeah... Just passing our time..._

“John Deacon!” Brian stormed into the room like a shark in a tank of fish. His eyes shot fire.

“Yes?” John got up calmly. He wasn’t as tall as Brian, but he seemed not too bothered and didn’t even flinch facing a man who seemed like a divine wrath personified.

Brian gulped several times, glancing around, but no one gave him an ignite to start screaming, so when he finally spoke, he sounded surprisingly quiet, more upset than furious.  
“Why did you do that?” he asked shakily. “Deaks, I...”

“Do you remember two years ago, when you gave yourself those shots of DHA?” John said.

Brian nodded.

“I told you about why Admiral Mack chose me for this mission. Your job is to keep him alive, Deacon, that’s what he said. To take care of you,” John seemed in unease but continued. “I couldn’t let you go to Institute, Bri. And I know you didn’t want to. So, whatever happens – it won’t be on you. You tried, we stopped you. There’s no blame on you.”

“You took it on yourself,” Brian said and shuffled his feet. “How is it that you feel even ready to live with it? If what Prenter threatened comes true...?”

John’s face was firm. “If it’s a decision to save your life what sends me to hell, Bri, I let it with a smile,” he said. “It’s done. I’ve never been good with what-ifs.” 

“How much time?”

“It'll run out in five minutes,” Miami said from his computer, turning around. Doctor Atkins was sitting right next to him, and even in his emotional state Brian couldn’t but notice how close the two men were sitting and how their knees touched. Good for them.

“Are you angry?” Roger asked quietly and made two hesitant steps forward. 

Brian looked at the blond, not on his face, but the circuit behind his ear. Roger was in danger, just as Freddie, just as everybody around except John and Miami. They could’ve saved themselves just by doing nothing, letting Brian go, but instead... Brian’s stomach clenched.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Roger tried for a smile. “I’ll be better in ten minutes or so. When we’re sure this... thing was just to scare us and not... not real.”

“It’s not real,” Freddie stood up. “Of course it’s not real, dear, it can’t be.”

Brian left that without an answer, only slowly walked over to Roger and took him in an embrace. Roger squeezed him protectively in return, and they both felt just a bit better and surer, giving each other comfort with their simple presence.

“Deaks?” Brian turned around after giving Roger a small peck on his forehead. “How did you even manage to drug the alga? I’d swear I watched you the whole time and you didn’t get even close to the medicine cabinet.”

John chuckled, but Brian noticed there wasn’t any real amusement in that sound. “I had it with me,” he said, “though using it on you was an idea of a moment. Since I... got to my senses, I’ve been asking the doctor for sleeping pills.”

Atkins looked up. “You said you needed them.”

“In a way...,” John shrugged and sighed, “I actually gave you just a part of what I managed to save. What I have... is for a different purpose. Because if they get to us,” his eyes flashed with dark determination, “I’m never getting back to that tank. Never.”

“Darling,” Freddie exhaled in horror and quickly grabbed John’s shoulders, turning his lover to him, “darling, look at me, I swear to you, I swear you’ll never have to go back, no need to... to...”

John smiled and caressed Freddie’s cheek, but before he could answer, they were interrupted by a voice from Miami’s computer tuned to play the Institute’s transmissions.

Two hours were over.

“CITIZENS OF QUEEN,” Prenter’s voice rang louder than they expected. Everybody flinched. “WITH THE DEEPEST REGRET WE ANNOUNCE THAT THE ULTIMATUM GIVEN TO THE REBELS WAS NOT COMPLIED WITH. IT IS THE REBELS WHO NOW FORCE OUR HAND TO PROCEED WITH CONSEQUENCES. THROUGH YOUR INTEGRATED CIRCUITS, EVERY HUNDRETH CITIZEN OF QUEEN WILL BE NOW PICKED AND EXECUTED TO SERVE AS AN EXAMPLE TO THE OTHERS. OUR INSTITUTE CANNOT TOLERATE THE DANGER THAT IS FREDDIE MERCURY, BRIAN MAY AND JOHN DEACON IN OUR STREETS ANY FURTHER. WE WISH WE WEREN’T PUSHED INTO SUCH EXTREMES, BUT CRIMES SUCH AS THE ONES COMMITED TODAY CANNOT GO UNPUNISHED. THERE IS NO ONE YOU CAN BLAME BUT THEM. I’M SORRY.”

With that, the voice went silent, and all the rebels present, around twenty people, exchanged blank glances.

Brian felt a freezing shiver taking over his body, but then two warm hands grasped his face and Roger dragged him into a kiss of desperate passion, which could be the last one they shared. They got lost in it, separate from the outside world, there was nothing... nothing but them...

... until they heard a soft thud of a body falling on the ground.

They both turned around so quickly Brian’s curls slapped his face.

Doctor Atkins was lying on the floor, dead eyes wide in surprise, staring blindly somewhere no living man could see. The skin over his integrated circuit, right behind the left ear, was reddened.

Brian felt as if heart stopped dead in his own chest, and quickly he glanced over Roger and Freddie, once more needing to make sure they were alive.

“No...,” Freddie whispered, and his eyes filled with tears. “He... did it, no...”

Miami quickly squatted to the body and needlessly checked for pulse.

“Is everybody else alright?” Brian asked loudly, glancing around the crowd. They were.

“We need to find some... make sure...,” John’s voice trailed away when he looked up at Brian. 

Brian swallowed all the bitter told-you-so’s along with the nausea that threatened to take over, but as usual, in a time of crisis, it showed how this man had become one of the best NASA could provide.

Rebels around started to realize what just happened and the mine began to buzz with panicked voices, sobs and tears.

“Everybody,” Brian said, taking the situation in his hands before it could descend into chaos, “go home, call your contacts or pay them a visit, make sure they’re alright. Jim, Peter, you two help us with the body. We need to bring him up on the surface and further away. I’m sure Prenter is going send someone to collect the victims, we need to make sure they find him.” 

“You just want to throw him in the desert?” Freddie protested. “Brian!”

Brian sighed, firmly returning the stare. “There’s no other option now, is there,” he said. “Take a sheet from the infirmary, we shouldn’t wait any longer.” 

John let go of Freddie’s hand, kneeled next to the poor doctor and closed the empty eyes.

“He deserved better,” Miami said.

“He did.” John’s voice sounded even quieter than usual. “He saved my life and Brian’s, knew he was putting himself in danger and did it willingly.”

Soon Brian returned with the sheet. Together with John, Roger, Jim and Peter they managed to get the body from the mine and fifty meters away from their secret entrance.  
When they walked back, Brian was silent.

Roger swallowed. “You know...,” he said, “even after everything, even with the shooting... I always thought we had the high ground. But Prenter... What if we really... can’t win this? No matter what we do?”

“We’ll kill him,” Brian said and stepped away from the entrance to the underground so Roger could go first.

 

“They published a list,” Miami announced quietly, his face sagged and ashen. “A hundred thousand people, all over the planet.” 

“So, you were right,” Freddie said, looking up at Brian, who just shook his head. He really didn’t want to have that conversation now. What was the point anyway? This was a catastrophe, a massacre of inconceivable cruelty, cold and calculated. 

Most of the rebels was already gone, running to check on their friends and loved ones, only few stayed.

“We should have a look,” John said and bit his lip. “We owe them at least to know their names.”

Miami shifted his chair a bit back so they all could see the screen. Names, names, names, names – and a dead man or a woman behind each of them. Brian knew this from the war, he wasn’t new to the feeling, connecting a written name with a body, the strange fatality. But John... and Roger and Freddie... he wondered what they were thinking. Nothing got through their pale, motionless faces. 

Here or there one of them made a sound when they noticed a familiar name on the listing, two or three more were of fellow rebels, and the tension grew with every new page, names, names, names names...

Andeson Linda  
Armstrong Neil  
Arnold Susan  
Andrews Carol  
Atkins Gordon  
Bonham John  
Belushi John

.... Brian softly touched Roger’s hand. It was shivering. The list went on, and on... and on...

Harpo Slim  
Howard Mary  
Henderson Sasha  
Heath Jeremy  
Hall Bret  
Higgins Patricia  
Hobbs Simon  
Hooker Earl

One by one... Brian thought pensively. He didn’t know any of them, but his heart ached all the same. A hand above the water, an angel reaching for the sky... Is it raining in heaven, do you want us to cry...

Peterson John  
Phillips Susan  
Price Diana  
Powell Cozy  
Pickett Kenny

And everywhere the broken-hearted on every lonely avenue. No one could reach them, no one but you... One by one, only the good die young. They're only flying too close to the sun crying for nothing, crying for no one, no one but you...

Roger’s sudden scream and a death grip on his hand woke Brian up from deep thoughts. 

“No! No, no, no, no...,” Roger muttered, eyes widened in horror, and his face was an unhealthy greyish colour. “No, no, no, no, Clare, Clare!”

“Oh, God...,” Brian quickly offered his embrace, and Roger collapsed there with a quiet wail.

“Bri, no... Clare...”

“I know, Rog, shhh, I know...,” Brian exchanged empty helpless glances with Freddie and John, who look equally shocked and helpless.

“She was... a child, wasn’t she?” John asked quietly, and his voice cracked.

Brian nodded.

John blinked quickly several times, trying to keep his composure. “How... how many more children are there? On the list?”

“Do you really want to know?” Brian’s eyes met his. “Do you really?”

“It will take a while to get the information on all of them,” Miami gestured over the list. He avoided everyone’s stares in hope they wouldn’t notice his state of upset.

Roger let out a short hysterical chuckle. “There’s no need, Miami. People will beat us to death with those names, making sure we know everything. Everything we did.”

“Roger!” Freddie protested, stepping forward. “We didn’t do anything wrong! This is Prenter’s doing, not ours!”

“But we could’ve stopped it,” Brian said, and his face darkened. “We’re just as guilty as he is. It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for us!”

“But we didn’t do it!” Freddie shrieked, losing his nerve. “We didn’t! We didn’t, we didn’t, we didn’t!”

“You tell them, Fred! You go, look people in the eyes and tell them there was nothing we could do! That’s a lie! We could’ve and we should’ve! But you just wouldn’t listen, would you?”

“Brian, don’t-“ John tried to interfere, but it was like trying to stop a train at full speed. With sobbing Roger in his arms, Brian went berserk.

“I spent two years with Reid and Prenter!” he screamed, and his curls looked like filled with electricity. “Two fucking years! I know what they are! Who they are! That Prenter is a sadist and a maniac, who wants nothing but power over people, with no regard of consequences! I told you he was being serious! I told you this could happen! We could’ve stopped it if you wouldn’t be just so damn sure no one could mean this! Damn right they could!”

“And you would stop it?” Freddie snapped and let go of John’s hand. “You, great Brian May, saviour of all, you would stop him if we let you go there? And this isn’t Prenter’s victory,” he continued, putting emphasis on each word, “it won’t be. He showed himself as he really is, people won’t tolerate having someone like that in the lead. They’ll follow us and-”

“Follow us?” Brian spread his arms, staring incredulously. “Follow us? Oh, of course, there’s a man who holds everybody’s lives in his hands, who just demonstrated that very thing by killing thousands at once – sure as hell people will wait in lines to stand up against him! Prenter knows what he’s doing! People are terrified! No one will ever want to have anything with us anymore!” 

“Brian!” Roger took his hand urgently. “Brian, please-”

“All those who listened to our music will be on DHA within a week! And only happy to forget all the changes we made within a month!”

“So you just give up?” Freddie asked, challenging. “We can’t!”

“What do you want, Fred?” Brian asked, his voice quieter and tired. “You know Prenter won’t hesitate to reach for brutal measures again. How many deaths are an acceptable price? You want a better future for this planet, a future without Institute, with music and love, but... how many will live to see it? Is it all worth it?”

“Yes, it is.” Freddie’s eyes glistened. “Whatever the cost.”

“Brian...,” Roger whispered against his shoulder, quiet and broken, “I want to go...”

Brian nodded, and turned to John. “We’ll talk about this later. Not today or tomorrow, but... later. I’m taking Roger home.”

“Take care,” John said and held Freddie’s hand just in case the singer was going to have objections. Nothing could be done. At least, not any time soon, and certainly not today.

Brian kissed Roger’s forehead and dried the tears on his cheeks with a sleeve. “Come, Rog,” he whispered. “We’ll have a dinner, a shower, and a bed, how does that sound?”

“Not hungry...”

“I know, love, I know, we’ll talk about it later, just come with me. I’m here, all is well...” With the quiet cooing and comfort, Brian led Roger out. Freddie, John and Miami only listened to the heavy door shutting behind the couple.

 

Prenter walked into Sheffield’s office with a spring in his step.

“You look happy,” the head of IT raised an eyebrow. “I heard your teams were withdrawn from their usual duties to clean up corpses from the streets.”

“Well, we can’t just keep them there, can we,” Prenter said. “And you were the one who pushed the button, so don’t play squeamish now.”

“Is it true Reid locked himself in his office?”

“Reid’s getting ready for his trip, which isn’t any concern of ours,” Prenter shrugged and sat down at the edge of Sheffield’s table. “He still hoped he’d get May to check the final safety protocol, but now accepted our engineers can do the job just as well.”

“You wouldn’t be that unhappy if he never reached Earth, would you?” Sheffield squinted his eyes.

“Once he leaves Queen, he’s irrelevant. What did you want to talk about so urgently?”

Sheffield gestured Prenter around the table so they’d both see his monitor. “It’s about this.” He pointed at the screen. “During the.... criminal performance... they hacked into our broadcasting system and used it for their purposes to spread their transmissions. My techs managed to count in the delay of information spread, broadcasting patterns and virtual-”  
“To the point,” Prenter asked.

“- the point is,” Sheffield frowned, “we know where they transmitted from. It’s a place few kilometres behind the town, next to Ridge Hill. I checked the maps and it seems there are large underground spaces, which used to be mines.”

“Rockfield mines,” Prenter nodded and his fists tightened. “Well then...”

 

Alba and Almira were slowly switching places in the sky, which as always was a breath-taking theatre. John was sitting on a dune and tried to ignore the coolness of the ground or sharp specks of sand under his clothing.

He felt a bit guilty to leave Freddie just with Miami at times like these, but... he needed it. As much as he loved his lover, this occasional need for solitude in stressful situations wasn’t anything personal and Freddie understood, which made John love him even more.

Thank God it wasn’t him today... John couldn’t be not grateful, even though his heart ached for all those other people, for doctor Atkins, for Clare... 

What now? What if Freddie and Brian stand against each other once again? And once again they force him to choose? John wasn’t sure he could bear it...

He glanced back and realized he got further from the entrance to Rockfield than he had anticipated. He almost wanted to get up and walk back, when suddenly something large flew over his head. 

A helicopter! And another! Another!

John pressed himself to the ground, despite the primal urge to run, and listened to the shoots and crashes carried to him through the still desert air. His heart froze when he started to realize what’s happening. How... can’t be...

Steadily, he crawled over the dunes until he had the secret entrance in clear view. The door was ripped away, and the hole left after them at least tripled in size – that must’ve been the explosion he heard. John’s face twitched when he saw soldiers crawling out of there, dragging...

“Freddie...,” John breathed, and his eyes widened in horror. All the instincts were screaming at him to run to his love’s aid, but at the same time, his shock kept him still.

Freddie seemed to be putting up a fight, until one of the men smacked him with a rifle butt, which sent the singer to the ground. Then, lifeless, he was quickly carried the helicopter. Black smoke rose from the destroyed mine.

_If there's a God or any kind of justice under the sky, if there's a point, if there's a reason to live or die, if there's an answer to the questions we feel bound to ask..._

“Freddie...,” John mumbled, and his face reddened with anger and despair, “Freddie...”

Soft sand muffled his scream.


	42. God Save the Queen

Brian walked over the bedroom and put a glass of water on the nightstand. Roger was lying on the led, face down and motionless.

“Rog...,” Brian whispered, “Rog, love, at least drink if you don’t want dinner. Say something. Please, love.”

He was exhausted. Prenter’s ultimatum, the executions, the loss of doctor Atkins, Clare, argument with Freddie... Lost in thoughts, Brian softly touched Roger’s back and stroked gently.   
He didn’t... well, he didn’t want to give up. He had nothing to lose, and everything to gain from fighting the Institute. Almost nothing to lose... Roger became his everything, should he lose him... But was there even an option to turn back? Do nothing? Unthinkable. For everything that happened, Brian wouldn’t stomach to sit back and watch Prenter get away with it all.   
What will the final price be? His life? Roger’s life? John? Freddie? Miami? Everybody? Will this revolution end with either Prenter or even one of the rebels sitting on a pile of dead bodies – casualties created by pure coincidence? What would be the point of that?

Since he was a little boy, Brian dreamed about making the world a better place. Was it a noble call, or a selfish vision? He wasn’t sure anymore. But John was right in one thing. If not them, then surely someone else would try, make the same mistakes, and end up poorly. 

If they’re to set up an example, they need to do it properly. Till the end. The very end.

Brian knew that, he just... wasn’t sure he had the strength to take whatever the future could bring. Again, he glanced at Roger. Strength or not... doesn’t matter. He had to do it. So, he would. 

The show must go on...

 

The deep thoughts were disturbed by furious knocking at the door. Brian’s stomach froze and Roger lifted his head from the mattress, red and wet.

“Get out!” he screamed. “There’s no one here!”

Brian sighed. Since they came home, Roger’s mood was a rollercoaster, swinging between an absolute apathy and fits of raging fury. Half of his dishes were lying around the flat broken to pieces. Who would blame him, of course, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t leave Brian drained.

The knocking didn’t stop – if anything, it was getting louder. Relentless.

“Rog, love,” Brian said and touched his lover’s shoulder, “you need to open.” 

Just barely, he dodged a pillow. 

“Rog!”

“Please!” a voice from behind the door called. Strained and distressed. “Please, please, please, let me in! It’s me, John!”

Brian hurried to open. A load of stones fell from his chest, but it quickly returned the second he looked in John’s eyes. And then... the usually reserved and composed engineer fell apart and collapsed in Brian’s arms, sobbing hysterically.

Even Roger got up from his bed, frowning, and helped Brian lead John to the kitchen.

“I’m s-so glad you’re alright,” John looked up tearily, “I thought perhaps p-perhaps they... you...”

“Deaks,” Brian kneeled so his eyes would be at the same level as John’s, grabbed his shoulders and looked at him with calm firmness, “we’re alright. Roger, me, we’re alright. Breathe, drink some water, you’re all flushed.”

What was this? Some meltdown of sorts? After everything John’s been through and managed to overcome, it would make sense for the dam to break eventually. Brian knew these states of mind all too well.

“I-I ran,” John admitted, sheepishly taking the glass, “all the way here, b-because,” he looked up, “they found it, Bri.”

Brian frowned. “Found what? What happened?” 

“Rockfield! I was walking in the desert and saw... soldiers with guns and... teargas, I think, bombs and... flamethrowers.”

“What?” Roger jumped up from his chair and his red face paled. Blue eyes seemed to take more than half of his face. “No! What about others? They’re alright, right? Everybody.”

John broke into another fit of sobs. “They took him!” he cried. “They took Freddie! I saw it!”

Roger let out a string of colourful curse words while Brian stayed silent, bloodless lips tight. His adrenaline spiked.

“What about others?” he asked. “Miami? Anita? Who else stayed there?”

“I don’t know,” John desperately clutched his hands. “They had the place burned and bombed. No one could survive that, Bri... they must be dead. And Freddie...”

A deafening crash sounded through the room when Roger threw two glasses at once against the wall. “Fuck that!” he screamed and new tears sprang from his eyes.

Brian frowned, the news cooling him down instead of the opposite. “Roger, stop it. Now.”

“NO!”

“Rog, please-“

“Yeah, you can say that!” Roger snapped tearily. “Because this is your first time, isn’t it! I already lost you and Deaks once, now I lose Clare, Miami, Freddie-”

“We haven’t lost him yet!” Brian tore a plate out of his lover’s hand and most probably saved it. “And you haven’t lost me either.”

“For two years, Brian!” His voice was slowly losing the hysterical undertones. Roger started pacing around the room, followed by John’s anxious eyes. “I know what you’ve been through,” Roger said, trying to keep calm and rational, “you told me enough – and seeing the state of you when you got back kind of gave away the rest. But Freddie... if they do the same to him... He won’t last. He can’t.”

“What do you mean?” Brian asked.

Roger snorted. “You were the first to tell me this was a dying place and now you don’t understand? We... we can’t go through as much as you can. And Freddie... Freddie is fragile, he always was. If Prenter...,” Roger’s voice shivered, “... you could’ve gone through it, but he can’t. I wouldn’t.”

“He told me he was a cockup,” John mumbled, and his face twitched when he looked down on the ground, “t-that he does everything he wants because... tomorrows are never certain. It was after the first night we spent together. I didn’t understand what he was talking about.”

“He’s not dead yet,” Brian said firmly, trying to drag the other two out from the road to helpless apathy. He knew that danger. “And I don’t think they would kill him.”

John looked up. “Why not? There’s no way they don’t know he’s Freddie Mercury.”

“But they know he’s not alone in it,” Brian reminded. “Prenter surely wants to get us all. He’ll use Freddie as a bait.”

“Or torture him to find out what he wants,” Roger said flatly, “and Freddie would rather die than expose us. We need to get him sooner than it happens. We can’t, we can’t let that happen!” He gave both Brian and John a fiery stare daring anyone to disagree with it. 

John stared at the smooth table desk. “If Brian is right... and Prenter is expecting us to come... then we can’t do exactly that. Any wrong step will get him killed!”

“We can’t just do nothing!”

Brian was silent for a moment, deep in thought. A short glance out of the window showed him Alba and Almira, both low on their horizons, with a band of darkness right in the middle where light of neither of them reached. The phenomenon appearing just once a year.

“The Prophet...,” he whispered, “... Rog, what did you say about it, back then?”

“When a whole Prophet is seen, a change is coming,” Roger said quietly, meeting his eyes. 

“We need to throw everything in,” Brian straightened up, looking over both Roger and John, “win or lose. We can’t let him take us apart bit by bit. That would be the end, Prenter knows it. So, we gather everything we can. Everyone we have. To plan, and to make it happen. Now. We take down the Institute, save Freddie, and avenge all the people Prenter killed. Or...”

After a short moment of silence, Roger slowly nodded. “Or. I... I’m in. We need to risk the “or”.”

John looked up, and his eyes burned with fire. “Unless we save Freddie... I’m quite fine with the “or”. But how...?”

Brian bit his lip, thinking. “Since... we don’t have Miami... it means no blind zones, no turned down cameras... He used to show you some tricks,” he looked up to John. “How much can you do?”

“I don’t think I can break in the security network,” John replied. “But our songs and other records we still have and maybe I’ll manage to hack the broadcasting system. Not the whole planet, but the city, probably.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Roger asked. “To play some record? But what then? We can’t get in the Institute unobserved, even with Miami’s help it was difficult. And we can’t go through Rockfield anymore.”

Brian nodded. “True. But you see... the time for unobserved is over.” His chest seemed to sink with a quiet sigh, but when he spoke, his voice was firm. “I can’t believe it had come to this moment, but... there’s only one song we can use now. And... God, this better work.”

 

The mood in the streets of Queen’s Capital was cold and quiet. Prenter’s actions spared no one, everybody had at least one friend or lover to mourn.   
They didn’t understand why this happened. Yes, they had heard what Prenter said. And yes, there wasn’t a soul on the planet who haven’t heard about Mercury, who sang songs about love and against RISUGI’s rule, against DHA... but this? This?   
Some were desperate, some sad, some angry, but all of them confused, aimless, their fury quietly boiling underneath. But no matter what anyone felt, one thing was certain – Mercury and his songs, the era of joy, was over.

Until... the speakers came to life again.

It started with a bass riff, simple and powerful. Everybody’s breath got caught in their throats. So, they dared... A wave of dread and excitement ran through the crowd. 

 

STEVE WALKS WARILY DOWN THE STREET WITH THE BRIM PULLED WAY DOWN LOW, AIN’T NO SOUND BUT THE SOUND OF HIS FEET, MACHINE GUNS READY TO GO!  
ARE YOU READY, HEY, ARE YOU READY FOR THIS? ARE YOU HANGING ON THE EDGE OF YOUR SEAT? OUT OF THE DOORWAY THE BULLETS RIP TO THE SOUND OF THE BEAT!

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST!

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST!

 

“It’s working!” Roger turned from the window to John, who filled with his computer at the kitchen table. “Deaky, you’re a genius!”

“Of course, I am,” John replied calmly and looked up with a worried smile. “How many people do we have?”

Roger shrugged. “We’ll see how many shows up. We lost eleven at Rockfield, so I called the rest, and they promised to alert their contacts. They know what to do. Mary sent a message two hours ago, the break-in was successful, so... we’re armed. Us and another fifty, at least.”

John sighed but got up with determination written all over his face. “So, shall we? Brian should be at his place already, we can’t be late.”

“Let’s go,” Roger nodded, and John sent a quiet prayer to the sky. He hoped God’s area of influence wasn’t limited to Earth only. Because... they sure as hell need him today.

And outside, the beat went on.

HOW DO YOU THINK I’M GONNA GET ALONG WITHOUT YOU WHEN YOU’RE GONE? YOU TOOK ME FOR EVERYTHING THAT I HAD AND KICKED ME OUT ON MY OWN!   
ARE YOU HAPPY, ARE YOU SATISFIED? HOW LONG CAN YOU STAND THE HEAT? OUT OF THE DOORWAY THE BULLETS RIP TO THE SOUND OF THE BEAT!

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST! ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST!

AND ANOTHER ONE GONE, AND ANOTHER ONE GONE, ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST!

HEY, I’M GONNA GET YOU TOO, ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST!

 

John and Roger ran out on the street and noticed just how the crowd was boiling. The small square in front of the RISUGI building was full of people, some running away, covering their ears, hoping that would exclude them from the possible future punishments. But the majority seemed to be far from that sort of thinking, clapping in the rhythm and catching onto the melody with defiant fury on their faces.

“Suck it, Reid!” some man screamed.

“Go fuck yourselves!”

“Yeah!”

“Mercury! Mercury!”

 

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST! ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST! YEAH!

THERE ARE PLENTY OF WAYS THAT YOU CAN HURT A MAN AND BRING HIM TO THE GROUND! YOU CAN BEAT HIM, YOU CAN CHEAT HIM, YOU CAN TREAT HIM BAD AND LEAVE HIM WHEN HE’S DOWN!

BUT I’M READY, YES, I’M READY FOR YOU, I’M STANDING ON MY OWN TWO FEET! OUT OF THE DOORWAY THE BULLETS RIP REPEATING TO THE SOUND OF THE BEAT, OH YEAH!

 

Roger’s heart was beating fast and hard in his throat when he looked around the frenetic crowd. Did these people realize how dangerous this was? Of course, he should be overjoyed their plan was working so far and people didn’t forsake them, but still... still... oh, Clare...

Quickly, he wiped away treacherous tears. This was about Freddie, someone who could still be saved. He had to be.

 

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST! ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST! ANOTHER ONE GONE, AND ANOTHER ONE GONE, ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST!

 

The song ended, but it wasn’t replaced by a silence – a loud long tune of guitar wailed over their heads, and everybody looked around in excited confusion, trying to find the source.

That was Roger’s moment. 

“Over there!” he exclaimed and pointed to the building right across the street from the Institute, though not as high.

There was a tall man standing on the edge of the roof, firm in his stance, curly hair and long coat flowing in the wind. His expert fingers were running over his guitar, creating an enticing and fascinating riff that had the steadily growing crowd look up in almost worshipping manner.

“That’s Brian May!” John shouted loud enough for people around him to hear, and the echo had been spread across the crowd like a wave.

“Brian May!”

“That’s the astronaut Reid wanted, Brian May!”

“Brian! Brian May!”

Roger elbowed his way to John, and the two men exchanged fearfully optimistic looks. The audience was ready.

“What is he even playing?” Roger asked. “Do you think it’s something new of his?”

Deaky shook his head. “It’s been around for a while. God Save the Queen.”

 

John Reid had been in his office when it happened, trying to ignore the steady beat, but the roar of the crowd following a single guitar riff made him go to the window and look out.  
On the roof of the opposite building, right at the level of Reid’s floor, there was a man with a guitar. Reid knew that face, oh, how well. 

Their eyes met.

The guitar solo ended. Like the whole world had stopped. Brian took the microphone – and his voice rang over the houses and streets, broadcasted all over the city thanks to John’s efforts.

“MR. REID, I HEARD YOU WANTED TO SEE ME,” he said calmly, looking the dictator right in the eyes, “HERE I AM.”

“Oh, God...,” Roger whispered, looking up in fear and fascination, while his heart overflew with love. This man, now looked at and admired by so many, was his, only his and his alone. And Roger would do anything for him. Anything.

“MY DEAR FRIENDS,” Brian continued, spreading his hands on the crowd, “TWO DAYS AGO, WE’VE BEEN WITNESSES TO A TERRIBLE TRAGEDY CAUSED BY THE INSTITUTE. ITS PRIDE, NARROW-MINDEDNESS AND LUST FOR A CONTROL OVER US. THEY ASKED FOR ME, AND NOW I TELL YOU, WHY. JOHN REID, THE MAN WHO CLAIMS TO BE THE RULER OF US ALL, IS BUILDING A SHIP TO GET HIM TO THE EARTH, TO START A NEW LIFE, WHILE WE’RE BEING LEFT UNDER A MAN WHO ORDERED THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE, MEN, WOMEN, AND CHILDREN DIE WHEN HE DIDN’T GET HIS WAY!”

The crowd was hanging on their prophet’s lips. They believed him. Every word made sense. Their anger was rising.

“Mary and Kash are handing around the guns,” John murmured in Roger’s ear.

The drummer nodded.

“THIS EVIL COMMING FROM THE INSTITUTE CANNOT BE TOLERATED ANY LONGER! THEY DO HAVE POWER OVER US, WAY TOO MUCH POWER. THEY CAN TAKE AWAY YOUR RIGHT TO HAVE CHILDREN. THEY CAN TAKE AWAY YOUR JOB, THEY CAN TAKE AWAY YOUR FRIENDS, THEY CAN TAKE AWAY YOUR WHOLE LIFE! ARE WE GOING TO TOLERATE IT? JUST MOURN YOUR LOSSES AND GO ON LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED? ARE WE GOING TO DO THAT?”

“No!” some in the crowd exclaimed.

“It’s been enough!”

“Death to Reid!” 

The cries and screams raised their intensity, and the crowd began chanting.

“DEATH-TO-REID! DEATH-TO-REID! DEATH-TO-REID!”

“WE WON’T LET THEM TAKE AWAY ANYTHING MORE!” Brian proclaimed, and his eyes burned with hidden fire that showed in his speech, his gestures, his strength. In that moment, there was no one else in the world. Only him. “THEY THINK THEY CAN HOLD US BACK BY FEAR. CAN THEY?”

“NO!”

“They can’t, no!”

“DEATH-TO-REID! DEATH-TO-REID!”

“NO, THEY CAN’T, MY FRIENDS! WE WILL NOT HIDE FOR ANY LONGER! WE WILL NOT BE HELD FROM THE BETTER LIFE ANY LONGER! WE WILL NOT BE HELD FROM FREEDOM ANY LONGER!” Brian let those words linger in the silence before he lowered his voice a little. “OR WILL WE JUST WATCH OUR LOVED ONES DIE IN FRONT OF US – AND DO NOTHING? ARE WE GOING TO WATCH OUR FRIENDS BEING TAKEN FROM US – AND DO NOTHING? ARE WE GOING TO SUFFER THROUGH OUR LIVES IN BLIND OBEDIENCE, HOPELESS, FRIENDLESS, LOVELESS? WE WILL NOT ALLOW IT!”

The roar from the angry crowd was deafening, people screaming, chanting and getting lost in the collective madness. 

“FREDDIE MERCURY HAD BEEN TAKEN BY THE INSTITUTE YESTERDAY EVENING, AND HE’S GETTING HURT AND TORTURED AS WE SPEAK! ARE WE GOING TO LET THAT HAPPEN?”

“Freddie! Freddie Mercury!”

“Freddie!”

“Death to Institute, death to Reid!”

“DEATH-TO-REID! DEATH-TO-REID!”

“WE’RE GOING TO THE INSTITUTE TO TAKE WHAT IS OURS!” Brian exclaimed with fury driving his words. “SAVE FREDDIE MERCURY, AVENGE OUR FRIENDS, TAKE OUR LIVES AND OUR FREEDOM BACK! THE INSTITUTE’S RULE ENDS TODAY! WHO’S WITH ME? DEATH TO REID!”

DEATH-TO-REID! DEATH-TO-REID! DEATH-TO-REID! DEATH-TO-REID!

“DEATH-TO-REID! DEATH-TO-REID!”

From behind, Roger could hear the first shots, which just ignited the gunpowder the crowd had become. Screaming in their outrage and fury, people ran towards the gates of RISUGI like a herd of wild animals. 

The plan succeeded. For their cause, for the Rebellion, for Freddie. 

Brian broke the hell loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to all of you!


	43. Let Me Back Inside

Freddie got behind the point of crying a good hour ago. Now he just weept softly while Prenter kept sending wave after wave of pain through his body.

They were in one of the soundproof torture chambers on the fifth floor. It’s been hours. Black dots were dancing in Freddie’s eyes and the world seemed slowly flowing away. 

“Oh, Farrokh,” Prenter tutted and sat down by Freddie’s head, “I can’t even imagine how much this hurts. Something terrible, for sure. Why are you making it so hard on yourself? It makes no sense, my friend, you must see that. So...” 

Just casually, he pressed a small button on a control desk connected right to Freddie’s circuit. 

Freddie cried out in pain. His body was covered in cold sweat and tears, and the freshly open wound behind his ear was still bleeding.

“There are... two options for you, really,” Prenter continued, his face relaxed and conceited. “Either you tell me who your little friends are, besides May and Deacon, or... we have some more fun here, just to kill the time before they come. Because they will. And you know they will, that’s what’s holding you on, the though that they’d come,” Prenter chuckled, “silly thing, Farrokh... we’re ready for them. And even if they come, I’ll make sure you never, never see them again. I know you think about them. You played your game and you lost, you realize that. So... give me the names and we kill them fast. They won’t even know what hit them. Even May and Deacon won’t suffer. If they come here, however... oh, you’ll hear their screams even through these walls.”

Freddie was shaking, but stayed silent, only closed his eyes as if it could stop that poisonous voice get to him. He felt weak, weak and getting weaker... Prenter said he wouldn’t see them again and Freddie realized it was true. He won’t survive this... this couldn’t be the end, but his end, yes. 

It’s been more than a day since he got in Prenter’s hands. He knew it wouldn’t be long until he just couldn’t take it anymore. Because betraying Roger and others... no, that was never an option.

Prenter wanted to say something, but at the same moment the door flung open and Sheffield burst in.

“We must talk,” he said, holding onto the doorframe. He looked like he’d ran. “Now! In private.”

Only the urgency in Sheffield’s voice made Prenter nod, leave Freddie where he was, bound, bleeding and helpless, and follow the other man on the corridor.

“What’s the matter?”

“The Rebels,” Sheffield explained briefly as they walked towards his office. “Brian May told everyone about the ship Reid’s been building for himself. Crowd attacked the Institute. They want us dead, all of us. And they’re armed.”

“You’re overly dramatic,” Prenter said. “Our troops will take care of those idiots. And if May and the others get in to rescue Mercury – well, that’s what we wanted. No need to panic over few lunatics.”

“Reid doesn’t share your optimism. He ordered the ship to get ready and plans to get out of here before the Rebels storm our gates.”

“The sooner Reid gets lost the better, he stopped being useful a while ago. And when it comes to the mob you shit your pants about – we’ve delt with them once, we’ll do it again. Kill them.”

Sheffield opened the door of his office and gave Prenter a questioning glance. “All of them?”

“Is there any better way to make sure this is the last time anyone had such ideas? It seems our previous warning didn’t bring our point across enough.”

Sheffield frowned and slid behind his desk to log into the system. In the meantime, Prenter slowly wandered over to the window, and looked down at the crowd, listening to the sounds of shots and screams. It truly looked like an apocalypse, and the RISUGI headquarters suddenly turned into a fort. Prenter didn’t even want to think how panicked the people inside must be, like that coward Reid. Doesn’t matter. Convenient, actually. New rule, fresh page.

“There seems to be around two thousand people in the crowd now, and more coming,” Sheffield announced blankly. 

“And?”

“I won’t do it.”

Prenter raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I won’t do it,” Sheffield repeated. “What we did before had no effect, and you can’t just keep killing thousands until-”

“I can, and I will. And with Reid leaving, I hope you realize you answer to me.”

“He’s not gone yet. I won’t do it.”

“Ugh, fine,” Prenter rolled his eyes and stretched his arms, cracking knuckles. “Can you find the history of our records?”

“Of course. Which day?”

“Back then when they... played those songs of theirs. We know now they were transmitting from the Rockfield mines. So just find out who had been present in that area. We execute those.”

Sheffield hunched over his computer and for several moments there was no sound but the clicks of his keyboard and muffled noise of the hell out there. It seemed whatever advantage the soldiers had with their advanced weapons or training, the crowd matched with blind fury and multitude.

Despite his proud words, Prenter was getting concerned. But no. He was this close to fulfilling his dream, his whole life’s goal. Some infuriating warmongers won’t stop him, that would be ridiculous.

“I can’t do it...”

Sheffield’s voice brought Prenter back in reality. His lips tightened. “You can’t?” he hissed. “Listen, I’ve had enough of your suddenly developed conscience, Sheffield. You’ve been the one who pressed the button which killed thousands already. And everybody knows that. Do you know how they call you? Death on two legs. So, you better live up to your reputation unless you want those savages outside to eat you alive. Grab your bloody balls and-”

“I mean,” Sheffield interrupted him, and an ice glistened in his tone, “at the day of that broadcast had been the area of Rockfield covered by some sort of signal disruption. I can’t get the data.”

Prenter only nodded, forcing himself to breathe slowly and think. “Very well...”

“So? I mean no offence, but maybe we should think of an escape plan. Our soldiers won’t hold the rebels forever-”

“Oh, for god’s sake Sheffield!” Prenter’s fist smashed against the table. “There is something like a signal summary, isn’t there? If they were covered by a disruption, then their signal must be missing. Just find whose signals were not monitored at the time – those are the rebels.”

Sheffield thought about it. “I suppose...,” he said after a while, “that would be possible. I’d need to take one by one though, and it might take some time.”

“Then you better start now,” Prenter said and left the room with a loud bang of the door.

 

“John, down!” Roger screamed and leaped to knock them both down to the ground. 

“Fuck!”

Deafening sound of shooting, screams, shouts and mad crowd rang over their heads when they crawled through concrete debris of what used to be a wall around the Institute.

“They got snipers across the street!” John said and angrily threw a rock in that direction. 

“Brian! There’s Brian over there!” Roger tugged on his shirt. “Quick!”

Indeed, Brian, hunched behind a taller piece of wall together with Jim, Mary, and Peter. He and Mary were armed, covering the advance against the Institute’s forces. Roger noticed that his lover’s hand didn’t shake, not even little bit. His face was calm and determined, when he took down two soldiers in a span of second. Roger wasn’t sure how he felt about this side of Brian, probably something between fear and admiration. And a bit of arousal too.

“You guys from Earth are a pair of scary weirdoes,” he said to John, who just glanced around and wanted to reply something, but changed his mind.

Brian suddenly looked aside and noticed Roger and John lying in the debris. They locked eyes. Brian pointed at his gun, then at them, then the area around. Enough said.

“He’ll cover us,” John hissed. “Rog, come!”

Soon they were all in a relative safety behind the concrete block, and Brian pulled Roger in a quick hug. No time for more.

“What’s the plan?” Jim asked, clutching a hem of his shirt. “Do we have any?”

Brian nodded. “Jobby and Anita are doing a good job leading the attack, but that’s only a distraction. Our job is to get inside. We use the cargo door leading to fire escape. Crystal’s in, he’ll open them for us. Hopefully. It’s the same way John and I got rescued years ago.”

“And then? We go save Freddie?”

“Some of us,” Brian said. “John and I aren’t trackable through the circuits, that gives us an advantage. You all – your job is to stay in some crowded areas, blend in. And find a way how to open the main door,” his bright eyes pierced through everyone around. “People will storm this bitch, get down Reid, Prenter, and all the others, while John and I take Freddie back to safety. Remember, all the cameras are on, so use fire escapes and staircase whenever you can, and don’t get them corner you. Any questions? Great, let’s go.”

How he wished to be so sure of this plan as he seemed. Brian sighed, aware everyone accepted his orders immediately. There was no time to show weakness, he couldn’t allow himself that.

“We need to get out from here, over the corner, across the parking lot to the cargo door. Roger will lead the way.”

Roger nodded. “Careful from the left, they got snipers in the windows of lower floors.”

“Right. Let’s go.”

Despite everything, new and new people were coming, though followed by Institute’s reinforcements. During their run towards the tall metal door, Brian and John couldn’t but exchange glances. They both realized that if they aren’t quick, the crowd they coaxed into this headless attack would be crushed between deadly pliers. They couldn’t allow that.  
With a crash, a piece of concrete exploded right under Mary’s legs. In a heartbeat, Brian turned around and shot the soldier responsible. 

“Fuck...,” he mumbled.

Finally, they were safely behind the corner, and Roger dragged him a bit aside. His eyes looked a bit feverish.

“Bri...,” he breathed. “I just... I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

“Sorry for what?”

Roger looked up, and his baby blue eyes looked desperate. “I promised you, once. I promised you wouldn’t have to do this, that we wouldn’t force you-”

“Roger,” Brian grabbed his shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. “I...,” his voice seemed more wavering than his gestures, “I... think this had been decided a long time ago. If you believe in fate. Maybe we were always meant... to end up here. With everything I did, everything I’ve learned and everything that happened, I can fight for something that makes sense to me. And someone.”

“It’s still not about our cause with you, Brian, is it?” Roger asked. 

Brian shook his head and pressed a soft kiss in Roger’s hair. “It’s for you, it’s always been for you since the moment you got me out of Trident. For you, now for Freddie and for...” he looked aside to see John standing alone next to the slowly opening cargo door. 

“We’ll get him his Freddie back,” Roger said. “Let’s go. We’ll win this.”

 

“What kept you?” Crystal asked when closing the door behind the group, his brows furrowed in worry. “This place is madness! Prenter ordered everyone to stay put, no one allowed to leave or even get out of an office. Lobby is full of soldiers, but we can slip by through the side corridors.”

“You’re amazing,” Brian smiled in all earnestness and handed Crystal one of their guns. “Take this, stay here, watch the door. We can’t have soldiers get through and get new positions.”

“We can’t leave him here as the only defence!” Roger protested.

“You can and you will,” Crystal retorted and glanced at Brian. “You can rely on me.”

“Brilliant. Now, everyone, let’s go. Around the lobby, and we’ll split on the first floor.”

 

They managed to get through the dark corridor and to the bottom of fire escape when Mary suddenly tripped on the lowest stair and collapsed on the ground. Roger immediately squatted down to help her, but then his face paled.

Time stopped, and they could hear nothing but their own breaths. 

“Bri?” Roger said, staring at the hand he’s been holding. “She’s dead.”

Brian's face stiffened. “She’s what?”

“Look!” John got on his knees next to Roger and brushed Mary’s hair aside to reveal a small reddened spot above her circuit. “It was them.”

Jim gulped. “Do you think it’s like the last time? Every hundredth, or something like that?”

“I don’t know,” Brian said, “but we can’t do anything about it now. The only way is to find them and stop them.”

“Change of plans then?”

“Sheffield controls the circuits from his office,” Roger got up and slowly took Brian’s hand, looking at Jim. “Deep in the building, with all the cameras on and no plan we wouldn’t get even close. We’re here to do something, and we’ll do it no matter what. This... thing is terrible, but there’s nothing we can do for her now.”

Brian nodded. “Right. Up the stairs, we separate on the second floor.”

With throats tightened, they had to leave their dead friend behind and keep going. In the first floor, they had to wait in complete silence for a group of soldiers to pass around their door. Then across the corridor and up again.

Brian knew how painfully slow the progress was. Are they in time to save Freddie? In time to help the rest of the rebels? In time, before Prenter kills them all?

“Alright,” Roger stopped them on the right floor, “Brian and John continue upstairs, Jim, Peter and I-”

With a soft gasp, Peter fell to his feet.

“No!” Roger exclaimed and turned Peter on his back, but even without the red spot behind the dead man’s ear, everybody already knew what happened.

“That’s impossible...,” John whispered, “do you think... they found us.”

“They’d kill us all at once if they noticed us roaming around the corridors,” Roger said, “along with hundreds of their own people. It must be something else, somehow they figured who belongs to us and-“

“What does it matter?” Brian was gradually losing his cool. If they really know, then now, unprotected... Roger... Roger would be next...

“What are the options?” John asked. “We can’t get to Sheffield to stop it, and-”

“There’s nothing we can do!” Roger snapped, trying to hide his nerves. “We continue in the damn plan and save Freddie and end this, that’s the only thing we can do! None of us expected this to be without casualties, you know?”

“Fuck that!” Brian had to start pacing around the empty corridor to calm down and be able to think. “We can’t get to Sheffield, is there any other way how to handle this? Block the circuits? Deaks?”

John shook his head. “Not even a blind zone can stop these targeted killings. It’s an isolated system with no connection to general network. The only way is to get rid of the circuits.”

“Sure, just dig into my brain, feel free,” Roger answered, and his impatience grew. “We need to go, you need to-”

“Would you shut up?” Brian exclaimed. “We’re not leaving you behind.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

“The only people who know their way around circuits are the Institute’s neurosurgeons. Medical facilities are in the floor minus one,” John said. “If they can’t help, no one can.”

“Sure, great idea,” Roger couldn’t hold a sarcasm, “what do we say? Hello, there, your boss is trying to kill us, mind to help? Even if we go, we never make it in time! We’re wasting minutes while Freddie-”

“We’ll try that,” Brian quickly decided. “Deaks, you go for Freddie, I take Jim and Roger to minus one. Whoever’s done first, goes to open the door for others. Clear?”

“You want to let him go alone?” Jim frowned, glancing between John and Brian. 

Brian nodded, also looking at John. “I trust him.”

“I’ll manage,” John assured them and reloaded his gun. 

Roger opened his mouth to say something, but the look of Brian’s eyes silenced him.

“Rog...,” Brian whispered, “please, please let me... try. I can’t lose you.”

“Go, quickly,” John urged them, “you need to hurry. Good luck.”

“You too, Deaky.”

After that, their paths divided.


	44. One Flesh, One Bone

John ran up the stairs to the fifth floor and then further along the corridor, painfully aware of the cameras on all corners. He could only hope that with the raging crowd out there the security had better things to do than watch people roaming around the building.

His heart was beating so hard he could nearly hear its echo, but he tried, tried so much not to think about it. He had to be calm. Calm and alert.

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Calm and alert, that’s how you save Freddie.

Freddie... John quickly gulped to stop the sobs threatening to take over. Freddie... It was just too much, way too much! Too much for a person to bear... Years... years of hiding, danger, getting caught and... the tank, the painful and unsure recovery, the fog in his mind every now and then ever since... and the concert... and the death that followed... all those people... and now Freddie... 

Did they hurt him? Surely, they did, they hurt him... they hurt him a lot... Is he...?

Not dead, John thought angrily. And you better pull yourself together, you whiny useless idiot, it’s your job to save him. He can be saved, and you will save him. Right now, Deacon, do you understand?

He got to the part of the fifth floor with the rooms for torture. He could see them through the glass of the entrance door. Locked entrance door.

“Fuck...,” John tried to slow down his breathing, and nervously glanced around before quickly pointing his gun at the lock.

The shot banged way louder than he’d like, but what other option was there?

Quickly, he got in and started trying door after door. Someone surely heart the shot and all the security cameras were on, John knew time worked against him.  
After several fruitless attempts he grabbed the last handle, and the door smoothly opened.

The room looked exactly the same as the one Brian had been tortured in, John remembered it well. The memory was twisting his guts in an icy fist, he wanted to scream and run away, so much, but the familiar look of dark eyes froze him on the spot.

Freddie was lying on the table in the middle of the room, strapped to the desk, beaten, bound, and bleeding from a wound behind his ear with some wires connected to it. He looked smaller than before, drenched in cold sweat, and the spark John loved so dearly somehow disappeared, chased away by the pain and exhaustion. He could be easily taken for dead, if it weren’t for those eyes. 

The two men were quietly staring at each other, until a tear ran over Freddie’s face, followed by several more. 

“Freddie...,” John whispered and made a quick step forward.

Freddie’s eyes widened, flicked somewhere aside, and John just barely managed to jump back when a gunshot rang through the room.

John cried out in pain while own weapon fell on the floor in a small puddle of blood. Instinctively he pressed his bleeding hand against his chest, and the fabric of his shirt quickly turned crimson.

“Well, well, well,” Prenter sighed, stepping away from the wall he’d been leaning against. “You lot aren’t getting any harder to catch. I’m almost disappointed. Try to move and I’ll shoot your brains out.” His gun didn’t stop pointing towards disarmed John, who could only look up in fury.

“You shit...,” John hissed, trying to hide the shiver of pain in his voice. The hand hurt something terrible, and he felt the hot blood soaking through his shirt. 

Prenter slowly walked over to Freddie and lazily leaned his back against the table, not taking eyes off his prey.

“So...,” he said, smiling, “... I’m guessing you’re the John Deacon. I’m terribly sorry we couldn’t meet at some earlier opportunity, but better late than never, don’t you think, Deaky?”

John’s eyes widened upon hearing that nickname and Prenter didn’t miss that.

“Surprised? I have that from your friend, our dear Brian. He talked from that roof over there so valiantly. But it seems you’ve been left with the actual work. A custom of his, perhaps? Maybe that’s the reason he begged us not to hurt you back then... begged so much... quite touching. And mostly pathetic.” Prenter smirked. “Though our medical section did quite a job on you before I had any say in it. But... now I do. So, Deaky... Looking forward to seeing your tank again? Reid’s leaving this planet as we speak, one word from me decides everything. Show me how happy you are about it.”

Bitter bile rose up to John’s throat and he quickly swallowed, trying to ignore the damp sweat on his back. The pain in his hand only grew and throbbed. Rather dead... no tank, please, no tank, rather dead, rather... Black dots started dancing in front of John’s eyes and his own legs started feeling unsteady.

“Maybe...,” Prenter continued, “... we can have Farrokh here join you this time, how lovely would that be? Now that I’m thinking about it – executions feel like a useless waste of perfectly usable bodies. Even though...”

John looked up just in time to see how Prenter casually pressed a small button on a control desk, Freddie screamed in pain and then... his body went limp.

“No!” 

Everything happened in a blur. John leaped forward with a furious scream and knocked Prenter on the ground without even thinking. A shot from the man’s gun banged loud among the four walls, but John ignored it, just as the new pain on his chest. All he registered was Prenter’s throat in his hands, Prenter writhing and kicking under him, but John held tight.

“You bastard!” John shrieked and hit Prenter’s head with full strength against the floor. Something cracked. And he did it again, and again, and again, in a violent furious haze. “You fucking shit, bloody son of a bitch, I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” He yelled while Prenter’s skull kept cracking against the tiles, less and less reminding of a human face.

“Deaky! Deaky, darling, please, stop! He’s dead already, stop! Stop!”

The weak but urgent voice woke John up from his frenzy. He dropped the dead man in an instant, helplessly staring at the bloodied mush that once used to be a human head. Sweet smell of naked brain twisted his stomach.

“Freddie...,” John whimpered and scrambled onto his feet to quickly untie his lover, “I thought... it looked...”

Finally freed, Freddie exhaled and slowly closed his eyes. John ached to touch him, hug him, but at the same time his hands were dirty from blood, both Prenter’s and his own and...

“Please, be alright, Freddie...,” John whispered, “please, be alright... I came in time, right? You’re alright, we can go away, everything- everything will be alright, won’t it? Won’t it? Freddie, please...”

The dark eyes opened again, and Freddie smiled softly. “I knew you would come...,” he whispered.

“Of course, I did,” John’s voice shivered. “I just wish I could come... way sooner. Before they...”

With a small gesture, Freddie stopped John’s rambling and sat up with several pained gasps. “God, this... darling, you’re bleeding!” His eyes widened.

Prenter’s second shot, aimed to kill, pierced a painful hole in John’s chest, which was now leaking profoundly with blood bright red.

“Darling, look at me! Are you with me? Do you need to-”

“I-I think it broke my rib and...” John hesitated, “it didn’t go deep, I don’t think it’s that serious, I mean, I breathe and everything. Can you walk? We need to get out of here, there’s a revolution going on.”

“And your hand!”

“Freddie! Enough about me! Can you walk?” John repeated. He felt exhausted and everything hurt like hell, and he just wanted home, whatever that would be. And he wanted Freddie to be home with him, both of them healthy and well, and have a lazy morning and breakfast in bed.

Freddie didn’t answer, but slowly got up, gritted his teeth and headed across the room to help himself to a stash of bandages and other proprieties in the corner. Every torture chamber was equipped in case of the interrogation getting out of control.

John patiently waited and let his lover clumsily bandage his wounds without looking. Freddie hated to see blood, but that wouldn’t stop him when it came to John.

“It’ll need a doctor,” he mumbled when finished. At least it wasn’t bleeding for now.

“Later, you can kiss it better,” John gave Freddie a quick hug. “Thank you. Now, we can’t stay here any longer. Hurry.”

 

“Ow! You’re gonna break my arm you-“

“One more word Roger and I just walk away, I swear to God!”

Brian, Roger and Jim were running down the fire escape towards the medical section of the Institute. Thanks to his long legs and lack of survival instincts, Brian was in the lead, holding Roger’s hand and dragging him forward.

He knew this was their only option – to be fast. Very, very fast. 

Fear travelled in his veins but never made it to his facial muscles or skin. Only his voice kept betraying him, as well as the soft shiver of his hand clutching Roger’s. Any second could warm, soft and living turn cold and lifeless, and God, Brian wouldn’t bear it. He couldn’t even imagine... that... his heart skipped several beats every time the thought that ran through his mind, over and over like a rat in a wheel. Jim was pale, biting his lip, it seemed to be clear what he was thinking, but Roger... for someone so notoriously wearing his heart on his sleeve he hid his emotions perfectly. Brian knew it was because of him.

“This is it,” Brian whispered when they got to the minus one. “I think the surgeons should have the offices and theatres somewhere close to the entrance. I mean, if every child gets the circuits operated in, they wouldn’t want to lead them through the whole section every time. Way too many secrets in here.” 

He thought of Tim. It’s been a long time, but Brian would never shake away the horror of that day he had to end his life. How could he. 

“Yes, I think so,” Roger nodded, which brought Brian back into reality. “We should try the offices first. These aren’t the usual working hours, whoever’s here will be out of theatre. I think-”

Soft gasp stopped Roger in whatever he wanted to say, and before he or Brian could even move, Jim collapsed to the ground. 

Brian let out a desperate sound. He hated himself for being grateful it wasn’t Roger, he liked Jim and knew Roger, Freddie, John and many others did too. 

“We’re running out of time,” he said, trying to get rid of unwanted emotions.

Roger didn’t answer, frozen on a spot, stiffly staring forward. Then he looked up, red in the face, his eyes watering. “That’s all you’re going to say?” he whispered. “God, I wish it was me, this waiting is just... just... fuck it! Fuck it all and fuck all of them!”

“You’re not waiting for anything!” Brian grabbed Roger’s shoulders. “Please, Rog. We’re in minus one, if we hurry now, we can do this!”

“Stop kidding yourself, there’s not enough time, there’s never been,” Roger touched Brian’s cheek. “Please, Bri, just... stop it. I don’t want to die running around corridors like a mad man, I want you... holding me, just hold me, love...”

“I’ll hold you,” Brian promised quietly. “I’ll hold you, I’ll kiss you, and I’ll be there for you – every day, for many years to come, until you die of old age in your own bed, all wrapped up and no regrets. Because I won’t let you give up today. We can do this, you can, understand? I don’t care if you hold on, because I will.”

“But what if this is how this all ends up?” Roger’s blue eyes looked sad and tired, spacing out. “What if Freddie dies... and I die... and you and John leave for Earth one day, just as you came. Wouldn’t that make sense? The full circle?”

“I don’t believe in such endings,” Brian kissed Roger’s forehead. “And neither in these talks. Brooding doesn’t suit you, that’s my job. Yours is to fight. You fought for my life, when I got from Trident, looking after me like I was a baby. You can’t give up on yourself, I know I never will. Come. Time’s running.”

Roger swallowed. “I love you, Bri. More than anything, please, remember that, whatever happens...”

“I love you too,” Brian said. “And please, please, come now.”

He was painfully aware of every second ticking away, as if there was a giant clock in his head. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Ro-ger. Tick-tock. Ro-ger. Tick-tock. Ro-ger.

They finally set off on the run down the corridor. Brian kept trying every possible door. Locked. Also locked. Locked again. Until finally, the “dr. Gerry Stickells” door opened, and Brian and Roger basically fell in the room.

There was nothing but a small table, two chairs and a sink, from an adjoining room came a smell of disinfectant. The only person in there, a stocky man in his fifties, got up at the intrusion.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” he asked sharply.

Brian glanced at the label on the door and back at the man. “You’re a neurosurgeon? Doctor Stickells?”

“That’s me,” the doctor frowned, “but I asked who the hell are you. Polite person would at least knock.”

“My name is Brian May. This is Roger Taylor,” Brian decided to skip everything unnecessary and get to the point before... before... “and we need you to get rid of his integrated circuit. As quickly as possible.”

Stickells raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Nobody informed me-”

“It’s sorts of not official,” Brian explained quickly with a nervousness finally leaking in his words. “But he’ll die if you don’t do it. I understand it’s not what you... usually do, but please, I beg you-”

“He’s to be executed?” Stickells asked.

“Yes.”

“Because of the Rebellion out there?”

Brian hesitated. “... yes.”

The doctor let out a sound between a gasp and a chuckle. “Then why the hell,” he said, leaning against his desk, “do you expect me to help you. Mr. May? Are you going to shoot me with that gun of yours if I don’t?”

Brian looked at the gun he was still holding in his hand, and then just dropped it on the ground. 

“No,” he said, looking firmly at the man. He knew this was a gamble, and with every word they were running out of time. Any second could Roger just... “That’s not the way we want to do things,” Brian continued, “we’re not like the Institute. What do you know about our cause, doctor? We fight for better world, one that’s just and free, one where something like this could never happen. You’re a doctor. You studied and you work hard for others, to make them better, to heal their pains and return them to the world. In my world, doctors are above any politics, above beliefs, above sex, race or religion, they do what needs to be done and help the ones in need. That’s the world we’re trying to make here, where you’d be free to do just that. Would you really consider just sending us away? You can help. You’re the only chance we have, and I beg you, on my knees I beg you... please...”

After a moment of silence, the doctor looked away. “If I refuse to help you, then yes, your friend will die,” he said. “But if I agree to do this and they find out, then I will. What’s in it for me?”

“You know what,” Roger suddenly said. “That’s why you chose to do medicine. Long hours of shitty hard work that never gets really appreciated, but you know what’s in it for you. Look at me, doctor. Just look at me and tell me in the eyes you won’t do it.”

Stickells sighed and tugged on his collar.

“Besides,” Brian continued, “the sounds you can hear even here – our Rebellion just stormed this building. Soon the Institute’s rule will be over. You worked for them for years, but there’s still a chance for you to get on the right side of history. Whatever you choose, please, choose it now. And quickly. Please, no dragging this on, you know we can’t afford that.”

“You’re right,” Stickells quietly looked at Roger, “the job is a cause, just like yours, sometimes a curse as well. But as much as I want to, I can’t take the circuit out in time to save you.”

“What?” Brian croaked and helplessly turned to Roger, who paled. “No... no, there must be a way, there must be!”

“There’s not...,” Roger whispered, “I told you. Bri, I...”

“No...,” Brian pulled him in a tight embrace, “no, no, no...”

Doctor Stickells didn’t watch them. Instead, he was pulling on a white coat and searching for something in a tool drawer.

“After you two are done with this,” he said, “follow me next door, there’s a theatre for small procedures.”

Roger looked up. “But you said-“

“I said I couldn’t take the circuit out,” he already opened the door and let both men in, “but I can disable it, put out of order. That should suffice. Small procedure, short-time anaesthesia. We skip the formalities, lie down.” He was already taking an injection, filling it with clear liquid from an ampoule.

Brian quickly helped Roger on the surgical table and tried not to see the stressed tears in his lover’s eyes. 

“All will be well, Rog,” he whispered, and every second felt like an hour, “I promise... We’re gonna make it.”

“Kiss me,” Roger breathed.

The doctor cleared his throat. “Give me your arm. Try to relax, you’re going to sleep now.” The needle with anaesthetic pricked Roger’s skin.

“I love you,” Brian whispered for the last time and pressed his lips on Roger’s just when the blue eyes slowly closed shut and the whole body relaxed.

“You rather shouldn’t watch this, Mr. May,” Stickells said just by the way, already taking his tools. Brian quickly understood and turned away.

For two or three minutes that felt like a century, he was staring into the white wall, listening to the sounds of Stickells’ work. They say when you die your whole life shows in front of you, but... it was happening now. Brian could see it so clearly, every single moment that led him to now. To here. Years to the past. Since the day they met.

 

__

“Is he alright?”  
“That’s our Roger. You’ll get used to him soon enough.”

 

“...the DHA, again?”  
“The pills won’t give you such kick, but it helps to take them regularly.”  
“I’ll pass, nothing for me. But thank you.”

 

“There is only one mine complex that could be around Ridge Hill.“  
“What mine complex?”  
“Rockfield Mines.“

 

“You criticise what I do, you judge everything I let out of my mouth. You keep saying how I don’t understand how things are better over there, we do this, we do that, we’re the best! And in the meantime, you’re nothing but a bloody hypocrite!”  
“Roger!”

 

“There are people in tanks around us! Bone marrow? Stem cells? Your planet is sick! Just a bunch of perverted-”  
“Stop screaming at me! I didn’t... know... I don’t know, I don’t know, I...”

 

“Just tell me if there’s any way I can help. You promised honesty, remember?”  
“I don’t think you can help, Rog.”

 

“I got to... care about you, Brian, so bloody much... so much you could easily be a world to me. But I can’t do this. Please, please, scream at me, shout at me, hit me and call me a coward... I can’t.”

 

“You got all green.”  
“I don’t feel that well...”

 

“From all the people I’ve ever met, you are the worst fucking one, Roger Taylor. I can’t fathom where I put my eyes before. You made me kill for you, you broke my heart, and you’re a goddamn traitor and a liar! You know what? I’m done with you.”

 

“Brian... it’s me... it’s Roger... do you recognize me? It’s Roger... You’re safe now, I promise.“

 

“If you think I’ll just sit back and watch you destroy yourself for some greater good, you are mistaken, mister, because fuck the revolution, and the Institute can stay put for another century or two for all I care, as long as you’re alright. Nothing is worth losing you, any part that makes you yourself, do you hear me, Brian? Nothing! So yes, I fucking care, even should I be the only one!“

 

“You’re not the only one to have feelings, you know?“

 

“Bri... I swear, I can wait. Weeks, years, forever. I’ve never wanted anyone but you, I’ve never been with anyone, not really, I don't want anyone else. I waited so long, my whole life. I love you and I want you, in any way you allow me to have you.”  
“I love you too.“

 

“I was so worried, so, so much Rog, I... never do anything like that again.”  
“Get shot, you mean? Sure as hell it isn’t on my schedule at least for another week, love, don’t worry.”  
“I need to see you alone.“

 

“You’re a bloody damn fucker, sometimes, Brian May, aren’t you?”

 

“We take down the Institute, save Freddie, and avenge all the people Prenter killed. Or...”  
“Or. I... I’m in. We need to risk the “or”.”

 

“I love you, Bri. More than anything, please, remember that, whatever happens...”  
“I love you too. And please, please, come now.”

 

“Mr. May?“ doctor Stickells interrupted Brian’s train of thoughts. “You can turn around.”

Brian did so, and felt his own hands shaking. The room got so cold... Roger was still on the table, and the paleness of his skin contrasted with the bandages around his head, soaked with blood.

“Please...,” Brian whispered, “please, did you... is he...?”

Doctor Stickells looked down on a small bowl in his hand. It contained one little electronic compound, not even a centimetre long. 

“He’s alive... and safe, Mr. May,” he said. “You sit here until he wakes up, should be soon.”

Alive... Brian’s heart was beating wildly. He’s alive, alive, alive... safe... alive... safe... Now, only now, he broke down in tears.


	45. You’re a Free Man

The first thing Roger saw when he woke up was a pair of hazel eyes sparkling with tears, both shed and unshed.

“Bri?” he whispered. Something... something felt odd. He expected pain, doom and death, every fibre of his body had more than prepared. And yet, there was nothing. No pain, no cold, only silence and Brian, smiling and holding his hand. “Bri?”

The smile got wider. “Yes, love?”

Roger’s insides clenched in nervous expectation. “Is everything... is it...?”

“It’s done,” Brian squeezed him a bit tighter, and his voice cracked with emotions. “They can’t hurt you now, my love, you’re safe.” Several more tears ran down his face. “You’re alright.”

It took a minute for Roger to digest the news. “I’m alright?”

“Yes...”

“I’m alright...,” Roger repeated, and his face lit up, “I’m alright! Brian, why the hell are you crying, you old sod!”

“Oh, shut up!” Brian chuckled and quickly caught an armful of Roger. For a while both just enjoyed the moment, the closeness.

When they emerged from the small theatre back in the doctor’s office, Stickells was seated behind his desk, apparently too busy writing to even raise his eyes.

Brian cleared his throat. “Doctor-“ 

Suddenly, the door of the office burst open. Roger jumped up on the spot, ready to run or fight, but neither turned out necessary.

“Thank God, here you are,” Freddie breathed heavily, holding up pale and bloodied John.

“Freddie! Oh, Freddie!” Roger exclaimed and ran for a hug.

“What happened, Deaks?” Brian supported his friend while Roger and Freddie had their moment. “Please, show me... you’re bleeding and-”

“Prenter,” John answered shortly. “He got off worse than I did though, he’s dead.”

Brian’s breath hitched and Roger behind them froze in his cheering. “Prenter’s dead? Deaks, are you sure?”

“Very dead,” John assured them and just watched their faces slowly lit up with radiating grins.

“Paul Prenter?” doctor Stickells got up, looking over the sudden crowd in his office. “You killed Paul Prenter? Who the hell-”

“Doctor, this is my friend John Deacon,” Brian quickly intervened, still beaming, “Deaks, this is the neurosurgeon that saved Roger, doctor Gerry Stickells.”

John gave the doctor a short stare and nodded. “Pleasure to meet you. I... I’d shake your hand, but...” All the eyes in the room drifted to the completely soaked bandage wrapped around his palm. 

Stickells huffed in annoyance and pointed his head towards the operating theatre. “Come. I can at least bandage it better than that. And I reckon you won’t say no to some painkillers.” 

After Brian’s small nod, John followed the doctor next door.

“Brian?”

“Yes, Deaks?”

John patted on the table next to him and quietly hissed when Stickells injected an anaesthetic all around his palm. 

“Now, take off your shirt, Mr. ...Deacon? I need to have a look on the other wound.”

“He shot you twice?” Brian frowned while quickly helping him. “Deaks, I...”

“I got to smash his head against the floor,” John shrugged and winced in pain from the broken rib. “And I got Freddie. It’s worth it.”

“What about the main door?” Brian asked. “Did you come straight here or-”

“We didn’t,” John looked up with expression that wiped a smile from Brian’s face like a cold wet sponge. 

“W-what’s going on?”

“The crowd stormed the building before we got to the door,” John said. “That’s what we wanted but... they’re like a herd of wild animals, breaking everything and killing everyone who gets in their way. Not just the soldiers. Everyone. This is an apocalypse, Brian.”

Brian would lie if he said he didn’t expect this. “This is what revolutions are,” he said quietly.

“But what do we do?” Roger asked from the door with visible unease. “I mean... there must be something we can do! We must stop it!”

“We started it, Rog, we can’t just stop it,” Brian said and got up, “the only thing we can do is to walk through it. And make sure something good comes out of it. Prenter’s dead, Foster’s dead, but there’s still Reid and Sheffield.”

John sighed. “After seeing the crowd, honestly, if Sheffield stayed in his office, I don’t think he’s our concern any longer. And Reid... Prenter told me Reid’s getting ready to leave Queen today. So, he’s one of the problems that solve themselves. We’re done here. All that’s left is to clean up our messes.” 

“We can’t just let him go!” Roger exclaimed and waved his hands. “He’s the head of RISUGI, he can’t just get away with it!”

“I agree with Rog,” Freddie said. “Brian?”

Brian took his time to answer. He was just tired, God, so tired, and the option of simply doing nothing sounded so tempting. And then... if they do decide to go after Reid, he knew what “stopping him” would involve. He felt the adrenaline going away, making room for a familiar wave of horror, pity and weariness. It would be so easy to fall under, once again. Just let the shadow take over, lead him to the well-known mind-numbing fog. All those people who’ve never been there wouldn’t understand that state. He wasn’t afraid - he welcomed it. The easy way of dealing with all this, the safe way.

“Brian?” Roger asked, and a small wrinkle appeared between his brows. He didn’t have wrinkles when we met, Brian thought. “Bri, look at me. Your vote decides. Do we stop Reid or let him go? To Earth?”

Earth... 

Just for Roger’s sake, Brian’s tired brain tried to actually consider the problem. But the last word only brought more distraction. He recalled the sunny mornings from when he’d been a child, jumping on his parents’ bed to wake them up and ask for waffles. He remembered his mother walking him to school, his father teaching him how to swim, all those long walks in nature, heavy atlases he’d insisted on taking with him to recognize different species of birds. And of course, all the starry nights. And then Chrissie, the happy early days of first love. And Jimmy, his little bundle of joy. God, how proud he’d been, holding his son for the first time...

“If Reid gets to Earth,” Brian looked around, “he won’t be quiet. He’ll let everyone know what happened here – but his own version. I- I don’t know what that would be, but I can’t let him have it. I won’t have my family, my son, my friends listen to such lies. We... need to go. And stop him.” 

Everybody nodded, but Brian’s throat tightened anyway. He looked at John, whose wounds were just roughly stitched by the doctor, Roger, groggy and shaken, and Freddie, with two days of torture clearly written on his face. Quite a pathetic bunch, truth to be told, but... it was his bunch.

“We’re in the minus one,” Roger said. “The entrance to the mines is only one floor below. And then we just follow the path and get to the hangar. We’ve done it before. Let’s end this.”

 

The high ceiling of the hangar, and overall that whole vast space would intimidate anyone, John Reid realized, standing in the middle of the huge space, staring at his ship. That thirty meters tall piece of metal and whatnot which was supposed to take him to a different life, away from this crumbling, dead place. He couldn’t say the revolution surprised him, he saw it coming from far away. Well, good luck to Prenter, he chuckled inside, I’m out.

He insisted on minimum people around, so there was only him, his pilot, his guards, and few techs in the control room. His heart fluttered with excitement. He looked forward to seeing the space, all new, brand new and-

And sound of gunshots rang through the air. Reid turned around just to see his guards falling dead to the ground, and their bodies stepped over by four intruders. Armed.

“Brian May,” Reid exhaled while his head boiled with panicked ideas what to do, “it’s you... And your little fellow rebels?”

Brian gave the dictator a cold stare. “You might remember John Deacon, I’m sure you heard about Freddie Mercury, and this man by my side, who’s by the way just one provocation away from killing you, that’s Roger Taylor.”

“Pleasure,” Reid nodded dryly. “And congratulation, gentlemen,” he put a forced, charming smile. “You won, Queen is yours. Do whatever you want, elect whoever you want or perhaps rule it yourself, I’m sure you’d be just perfect for it. And if you excuse me-”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Freddie said and his dark eyes pinned Reid in place. Roger raised his gun.

“I can’t see any reason why not,” Reid objected spreading his arms in calming gesture, “dear boys, there is nothing I’m good for anymore, there is nothing you can take from me. So why shouldn’t we act like civilized people for once, and just go separate ways with an honest farewell?”

Brian turned left and right to his friends, who all gave him determined glances.

“I suppose... we could,” he said slowly, and looked Reid straight in the eyes. “We could, had this happened three years ago. Or even better, eight years ago, when the first ship arrived. You could’ve welcomed them, let them contact Earth, you could’ve chosen to save this whole planet. But no. You had them killed and put in tanks. Tim was my friend!” Brian’s eyes burned with hatred. “And then we came, John and I, and what did you do? You sent Foster on us. You had us imprisoned, and then? You had Prenter hunt us, torture us, you used us and abused us. But let’s not end there. You kept this whole planet on a way to destruction just so nothing would threaten the Institute’s control. You had Prenter murder all those people. You’re the one responsible for this all, Reid. You alone.”

Reid nodded. “I accept the blame,” he said, “but you must understand, Brian, that it’s not always easy to decide what is right when you’re in my position. One day, you might understand, what I did, I did for the good of Queen, not myself, and-”

“Oh, shut up!” Roger snapped and fired a shot.

Everybody froze and watched a spot of bright red growing bigger and bigger on Reid’s chest, until the dictator just collapsed on the ground, lifeless.

“Roger!” Freddie sounded incredulous. “What did you do?”

Roger shrugged. “What? We were going to do that anyway.”

For a short moment, everybody was silent, just staring at the body in front of them.

“So...,” Freddie said and softly looked around, “that’s it? The end? Feels just so... strange.”

John shook his head. “Hardly the end. The revolution is in full swing, and it’ll take a lot to create a new order in things. A better one, preferably.”

“And then there’s the spaceship,” Roger pointed to the colossus in front of them, “what about that?”

“There are two places in it,” John replied quietly, and turned to Brian, his face serious. “One pilot and a cryo-unit. Two tickets to Earth. We still have a mission to finish, this is just the chance.”

“You want to go back,” Brian realized, and a claw of homesickness suddenly dug deep. He wanted to go, to take this chance, oh, how much, but Roger... The blue eyes stared at him with a startled expression but stayed silent.

“No!” That was Freddie. “No, you can’t leave, Deaky, darling, please...”

“I’m not going,” John smiled and took Freddie’s hand in his. “I could never. They are.”

“The two of us?” Roger gasped. “Me? In a spaceship? Me?”

“You’ll sleep through the whole journey. I’ll go up on the tower to lead the start and-“

“Wait, John,” Brian interrupted him. “Do you really think we could do this? And just leave you in this mess? You said it yourself, today’s just the beginning, who knows what’s gonna happen!”

“Exactly,” John let go of Freddie, reached for Brian’s shoulder and grabbed it firmly. “Don’t you see? This is a chance to get the two of you to safety, and to let NASA know we’re here! I know I can trust you, unlike Reid, to tell the truth. The whole truth. You must go back, Brian. You and Rog... you must tell them. Tell everyone about Queen, and what happened to us. All of it.”

“Why don’t you go, then?” Brian opposed. “You and Freddie? I’d feel much better knowing you’re out of here.“

Instead of an answer, John waved his bandaged hand and pointed to the wound in his chest. “I can’t,” he said softly, “and Freddie needs to rest. Besides... I know you better than you think, Bri. You want to go, unlike me. My travels end here and, honestly, I’m not even mad.”

Brian tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat and turned to Roger. “What do you think, love?”

Roger took his time to respond. One could see him think about all they’ve been through, everything he’d leave behind, and what could wait for him on the other side. Light blue eyes filled with tears.

“I think...,” he whispered, “I think... I want to go. With you. But Freddie-”

“I’ll be alright, dear,” the Freddie grinned, “darling Deaky makes sure of it. And who knows? One day we meet again.”

Brian looked back at John and his eyes shined warmly. “We’ll meet at the MBB.”

John smiled. “At the MBB. For sure. I’ll miss you, poodle-head.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Poodle-head? Careful, Deaks, I can still tell Freddie about the night we met, when you-“

“Time for you to go, journey’s long and all that!” John jumped in and all the men chuckled. “Good luck, Bri, Rog...”

Roger smiled and hugged both John and Freddie in one embrace. “Good luck to you, guys. We’ll miss you. Really.”

“Yeah, darling,” Freddie winked, “you better. And hurry, before we get stomped by an angry mob.”

The foursome quickly exchanged last hugs, and Freddie and John hurried out of the platform and up the narrow stairs to the control room. Brian pointed to a metal ladder leading to the door of the ship. Roger’s eyes already started to shine with the prospect of upcoming adventure.

 

The inner design of the ship was nearly identical to the one Brian already knew, so it wasn’t a problem to close the pressure door and switch on all the necessary systems and board computers.

_“Control room calls the ship, Bri, do you hear me?”_ John’s voice sounded from the intercom.

“To the control room, we hear you loud and clear. Door locked, systems running. Everything seems to be working just fine.”

_“Same here. Strap yourselves in, I’m opening the roof, get ready for 5 minutes and counting."_

“5 and counting, understood,” Brian turned back, “Rog, please, there should be a bag with spacesuits, get dressed, hand me the other and close all our clothes safely in. Nothing can be left to fly around. Then come sit next to me and strap yourself in.”

_“Control room to the ship, retracting the orbiter access ladder, activating APUs, retracting beanie cap.”_

“Understood,” Brian quickly undressed and put on the suit. In the narrow space of the cockpit it turned out to be quite a task. “Ship to the control room, we’re locking the visors, orbiter transferred to internal power.”

_“31 seconds, Bri, starting the auto sequence.”_

“Understood.”

_“10 and counting, activate burnoff system.”_

“Burnoff activated. Start the main engine.”

_“6 and counting and engine started, have a nice trip! And... thank you, Bri.”_

“I thank you...,” Brian whispered into the deafening roar of the engine and the well-known massive pull. The ship was launched.

 

“Roggie... you can look now. Relax. That’s all normal, all is well, I swear. And I want you to see this.”

Finally, the blue eyes opened, and Roger couldn’t hold a soft gasp...

“That’s Queen?” he whispered, staring at the planet that was suddenly a size of a plate in the all-embracing darkness. “That’s impossible... impossible...” Everything just felt so different, so strange, together with the eerie sensation of zero gravity. Roger couldn't believe it.

“Not at all,” Brian smiled. “And look – there’s Alba and Almira. And the white dots... all the other stars there are.”

“Is one of them the Sun?” Roger asked eagerly. “Are we getting closer?”

Brian chuckled. “It’ll take eighteen months till we get there. But you’ll sleep through it. Come, it’s time.”

The famous c-unit looked more like a narrow closet big enough barely to contain one adult person.

“You get in there,” Brian explained, trying to dispel Roger’s apparent fear, “I close the door, and you just breathe normally. Long deep breaths. The unit releases gas to put you asleep and lowers its temperature. You shouldn’t feel anything.”

“And what if it won’t work?” Roger asked anxiously. “There’s enough food, water and everything for one person only, what if-“

“Roger, it will work,” Brian said firmly. “Don’t worry. I’m here, and I take care of you. I promise.”

Roger only swallowed and stepped in the open door. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” Brian smiled. “Rog?”

“Y-yes?”

“You’re one of the bravest and most amazing people I know, and I love you. More than anything or anyone. 

His long fingers ran through Roger’s fair hair and hesitantly stopped on the fresh scar behind the ear. It’ll stay, he realized. But with some luck, that’s the only bad thing Roger doesn’t get rid of.

The only mark his civilization leaves.

“I’ll get us home,” Brian whispered. “I promise.” Roger only managed to nod, before the unit closed. 

Brian waited for a moment, and then returned to his seat. 

The space felt suddenly so impossibly vast, cold and quiet. More than a year... But Brian knew he could manage, with his eyes on the prize. Earth. In peace. With Roger.  
This time... for the first time, he realized... He was truly looking forward for the mission to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter will be an epilogue after a time-skip, so the main story ends here. Consider it dedicated to all of you who followed our heroes for so many months from the beginning through their journey to end up here, and supported me through it by all those wonderful kudos and comments which are the greatest reward a writer can get.  
> I love you all, my darlings, and let me know your thoughts or questions, I'll do my best to answer them.  
> Your Titlark


	46. Epilogue I. - Queen

The light of Alba filled the whole spacious office at the top floor of one of the tallest buildings in Queen’s Capital. Colourful sky shined through the large windows which took almost an entire wall. Grey carpet with utilitarian furniture gave an impression of power and professionality. The only personal touches seemed to be several large paintings in cheery colours signed F.M. in their lower right corner.

John leaned over his desk to closer examine the papers covered by his neat handwriting but upon the sound of knocking, he looked up.

“Enter!”

“Hello, darling,” Freddie grinned and slipped inside. “I would’ve asked your secretary if you’re free to grant an audience, but I couldn’t find the poor girl anywhere.”

John squirmed. “I... I sent her away. She kept coming in with all those messages from people, so I just gave her a day off and took the phone off the hook.”

Freddie laughed heartily, sat down on John’ table and pressed a kiss in his hair. “Of course, you did. That’s why Miami sent me to get you, so you wouldn’t miss the big show.”

“Hmm, give me a minute,” John looked back into his notes, “I just... “

“Darling, come to me,” Freddie ran his hand through John’s hair and lead his head to rest on his lap. John hummed and snuggled a bit more, softly kissing his lover’s inner thigh. 

Freddie giggled. “Cheeky thing. That’s the Deaky I like.”

“You don’t like me other way?” John mumbled and let Freddie’s hand ran gently over his back.

“That’s not what I meant, darling. You spend hours locked in this office, I’m worried about you.”

“Do you like our job?” John replied with a question.

Freddie thought about it.

It’s been two years since the fall of RISUGI and death of John Reid, and as they had suspected, it took lots of their strengths and many months of hard work and uncertainty until they could even speak about a new dawn. Interim government had been assembled, from now on separate from the Institute for Family Planning, or IFP, which grew from the metaphorical ashes of RISUGI. An existence of an institute to help people of Queen have viable children, was still necessary, but the new regime ensured people were free to have as many children at any time during their lifetime they like as long as they managed to take care of them. 

Introducing a family model to people of Queen was harder than John had imagined. There’d been thousands of important things to take care of, but today... finally...

“... I think we’re doing something great, darling,” Freddie said quietly. “And come on, Miami will kill us if we’re late.”

Three days after Brian and Roger left, Miami re-appeared, to Freddie’s and John’s endless joy. He had survived the destruction of the Rockfield by hiding in the remote passageways and spent days trying to find his way out. Finally, he emerged hungry and dehydrated, but otherwise perfectly alright, more than ready to do his bit. For all his skills, energy and charm Miami turned out priceless, which, by the united choice of everybody involved, pushed him right in the head of the Queen’s new government.

 

President Beach raised an eyebrow when Freddie and John finally arrived on the small square right in front of the Central Childhood Centre, late.

Their arrival of the couple, with all their assistants and bodyguards was welcomed by a deafening cheer. Freddie kept giving his bright smiles left and right, and even John managed some waving before they both took their places on a small stage by the president’s side. It’s been a huge event, one being prepared for months, and John estimated the audience to be at least five hundred people, if not more. There were also cameras, carefully manned by professionals, broadcasting all over the planet, and soldiers in fancy uniforms lined up to ensure a smooth course of events. John was painfully aware many of those people were staring at him. 

Anita shot a knowing look from under the stage, and John squirmed.

“I’ve already had my speech,” Miami turned to Freddie, “so now it’s on you.”

Freddie gave John a cheeky wink, getting up again. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he smiled, “welcome. We’re all delighted to see you here, at this historical occasion, a transformation of an institution which will, from now on, serve only as a place of education, and education only. All the other tasks the Central Childhood Centre provided so far will be taken over by you, dear people. During the hard times we all went through, there are many who, despite all the odds created by RISUGI, found love. Being one of the lucky ones,” Freddie turned to John with his brightest smile and some people cheered, “I know what a treasure love is. And we must make sure the next generations know it too. Please, a great applause for the couples who had decided to participate in this immense challenge and accept children from the Central Childhood Centre as their own. May they bring you lots of new memories, love, and joy. Thank you.”

He cut it short, John noticed. Freddie’s usual speeches were twice as long, not that he minded, really. 

Under Anita’s supervision, first couples approached the heavily decorated door of CCC and left with wide-eyed children holding their hands, while the crowd was cheering for the new families, wishing all the best. 

John looked over the heart-warming sight. This had been something they worked so hard on, they won, Queen got a chance... So why was he feeling so empty, so distant from all those people.... God, so many people around... suddenly he just wanted to just crawl under the stage, under the ground and disappear.

“Are you alright, darling?” Freddie whispered in his ear and John nearly jumped up. He didn’t even notice that Freddie got behind him.

“I... I think so... I...” John stuttered and didn’t even realize several tears ran down his cheeks until Freddie wiped them away with his hand.

“Darling...”

“No, nothing, I’m alright, I...”

“Come with me.”

“We can’t just walk away!”

“Just come!”

Of course, some people noticed the escape, but couples and children gave currently much more of a show. Freddie quickly lead John around the walls of the Centre and through the back-door in. 

They found themselves in an empty service corridor. After the roaring crowd, the sudden silence felt almost deafening, and only the sound of their steps echoed in the air. John leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Just breathing. Being. 

They knew each other long enough to understand their weaker moments. While Freddie wanted to talk and hug it out, John, on the other hand, needed his space. That’s why Freddie stayed silent, keeping his distance few steps away.  
Oh, Freddie, John sighed gratefully, his eyes still closed, hands tracing the coolness of the wall, Freddie...

“Freddie?”

He stepped closer in an instant. “Yes, darling?”

“I just...,” John seemed a bit unsure, looking into those deep dark eyes, “just... what are we doing here, Freddie?”

Freddie frowned. “What do you mean?”

John didn’t answer straight away, only took Freddie’s hand. They slowly walked down the empty corridor and to the window at its end. Both stood quietly in the light, looking down at the ceremony they were supposed to attend.

“In three days...,” John said, his eyes fixed on the scene, “there’ll be the end of interim government. First elections.”

Freddie shrugged. “I don’t think much will change. Miami will stay in the lead, people love him. Not that there are many other options.”

“And us?”

“Is something bothering you?” Freddie softly touched John’s arm and pulled him into a kiss. “Please, talk to me, lovie.”

John sighed again and glanced down the window at the children outside. “It’s not that... easy to explain,” he said. “It’s just... we did a lot to get where we’re now, ever since I got out of our ship, with Brian. But now that we’re here, I feel like it’s... dragging us away, trapped in a net of our making. I don’t want this, Freddie. I hate that office I have, I hate my assistant, I hate my assistant’s assistant, I hate all those people. I’m happy to help, but... but...,” his voice broke, “I can’t do this anymore, Freddie, and I hate when I feel I have to!”

“Then what do you want?” Freddie asked. “If we could do anything – what would you do?”

A faint smile ran across John’s face. “If I could... I’d pack you... and we’d run away, somewhere far, to one of the small towns close to equator where no one would know who we are. I’d get us a place and just... fix stuff for living. You... you know I’m good at that. And I heard many of these remote places have problems with electrification, the network is something terrible. And every evening, we would meet at home, eat dinner together and...”

“And?” Freddie’s eyes sparkled. Instead of an answer, John simply grabbed in his crotch and gave it a squeeze. 

Freddie yelped. “Darling!” 

“... and lots of that,” John finished.

Freddie smiled. “This plan sounds... divine,” the grin got even wider and dark eyes lit up. “So, come on, let’s go. But, call me crazy, dear, I’m not leaving without at least some of our clothes. And my drafts, and those sketches of yours, with that thingy. But if you move your delicious bum, we can be out of here in three hours. Two if we run, and one and a half if-”

“W-what?” John grabbed Freddie’s arm. “No, stop, wait, we can’t just leave!”

“You just said you want to!”

“But what about Miami?”

“Miami can manage Queen without us,” Freddie waved his hand. “It’s not like he has nobody around.”

“And what about you?” John’s eyes were sharp, showing a soft question. “Freddie... you’re not like me. You love the attention, all the fuss around us. And I understand, I really do, and I can’t ask you-”

“Deaky, darling,” Freddie interrupted him with a smile and squeezed his shoulders. “My love, I’ll rather sing in a sleazy bar for four to five drunkards, than spend my life giving speeches about freedom or telling people how to live. I never wanted this either. I haven’t been singing in ages, and I can’t even remember the last time I drew something worth mentioning. I’m a performer, darling, and as long as you’re with me, living the life you dreamed of... a happy one. Especially if I hear you strum every once in a while.”

John swallowed, and his eyes dropped to his right hand. The wound after Prenter’s shot healed, but the damage’s been done, leaving the palm contorted by a wide scar, and fingers stiffened.

“I don’t think I can play again,” he whispered.

“From what I know, you play me just fine with it,” Freddie said, giving a cheeky wink, “and it never hurt anyone to try. In our new little home, we’ll have time. But...” His face darkened, getting a tint of worry.

“But?” John repeated and his stomach clenched. “Freddie... is something wrong? Please...”

Freddie didn’t answer straight away, just like John a short while ago, just fidgeted with the one simple ring he’d been wearing ever since he and John exchanged them last year.

“Freddie?” John repeated. “If you changed your mind about leaving-”

“I need to show you something,” Freddie blurted out and before John could ask any more questions, he found himself dragged down the corridor and then up a staircase.

“Freddie, Freddie, what is th-“

But Freddie already stopped and knocked on one of the many doors. John couldn’t hide his surprise. This part of the Childhood Centre wasn’t officially used, and the rooms seemed to be mostly empty or meant for the staff, storage and maintenance. 

But it opened immediately.

“Hi, Freddie,” Kash smiled. “I wondered when you care to show up. They’re all here.”

Before John could ask who, he realized the room was actually a nursery, fully equipped with small beds, changing tables, and toys. 

Six toddlers two or three years of age were making a good use of them. Something in John’s heart warmed, he didn’t even wait for an invitation and walked in.

The children seemed to be curious about the visit, but as their attention shifted to the newcomer, a tower they’d been building from large soft cubes collapsed to the ground. Its creator didn’t take it well.

“Oh, no, no,” John was there in an instant, getting down on his knees, ready to soothe the misfortune. “No, no, don’t cry, there’s no need to cry, look, we build it again, hm?”

He offered one of the colourful cubes to the baby, and when the tiny fingers touched his, John felt something flutter in his chest. He couldn’t help but smile, he just couldn’t help it, it was inevitable.

“.... and that’s right, and the other one,” John cooed, “now you try it, hm?”

“Me! Me!” a little girl squealed and reached for the cube with grabby hands.

John laughed. “Then take it,” he teased, holding it just out of reach, and the toddlers happily accepted the new game, some tower long forgotten.

It took several minutes before John realized Freddie was still standing at the door, watching the whole scene. There was something in his face... something John didn’t understand.

“Why did you take me here?” John asked softly and got up. That wasn’t taken well by his little playmates, who pulled on his trouser legs, demanding immediate attention.

Freddie looked over the children, a bit insecure. “I... do you like them?”

John hastily approached his husband. “Yes, of course, I... Freddie, you... - ,” he stuttered in surprise, “picked these children for us? You- you picked six children for us, are you- I mean, six children?” 

“They’re yours,” Freddie said quietly, “and... ours, if you want. Are you... happy?”

“Happy?” John swallowed and looked back at the bunch, then at Freddie, and he felt his heart swelling with a warm fuzz he hasn’t felt since... he never felt before. He thought he would choke on it, so great and intense it was, and... “Do we... take them?” his voice shook. “With us? Away from here with us?”

“If that’s what you want.” 

John didn’t need to ask what Freddie wanted. He saw his face, his eyes, looking at the bunch on the floor with a longing wish. John picked up one of the toddlers, a boy in a cute blue onesie, and just handed him to Freddie, whose eyes widened.

“Deaky, darling, I-“

John chuckled. “Relax. They’re not glass, you know.”

To prove the point, the boy chose to grab Freddie’s nose and apparently found the game exceedingly funny. The baby’s giggle was the sweetest sound John ever thought he’d hear.

“Aren’t you a little trouble,” Freddie cooed and lifted the toddler higher on his arm. “So, you’re Luke, I think?”

“Luke,” the boy repeated proudly, showing an adorable gap between his front teeth.

“That’s right, baby, you are. And who’s that?” Freddie pointed to John. “Is it daddy?”

Luke seemed to think about it. “It’s daddy!” he decided. “Daddyyyyy! Daddy play?”

John blinked furiously and looked away to hide the sudden wetness in his eyes. “You picked six children for us...,” he repeated. “God, Freddie...”

“They’re yours, Deaky.”

“They’re ours,” John turned back to him, “yes, Freddie, I-”

“No, you don’t understand,” Freddie handed Luke over and wildly gesticulated, “they are yours, John. Like... in genetical way, really yours.”

What?

John froze, staring at Freddie. Luke squirmed, dissatisfied with this lack of action, and John put him on the ground, but his empty expression didn’t go away.

“But... how?” he whispered. “I didn’t... how... Freddie...” At least three pairs of greyish green eyes stared at them from the floor.

“When... the Institute put you in the tank,” Freddie said and stepped closer, trying to provide any comfort he could, “they... took a bit more than just... the bits we know they took.”

John almost mindlessly touched the old scar on his stomach. “They took...,” he swallowed in discomfort and had to fight a sudden urge to cross his legs.

Freddie nodded, looking away. “Yes. And then... used it. Atkins found out about them, about a week before we rescued you. He told me, but with the way you were... I didn’t want to burden you with more baggage – especially as there was nothing to be done about it.”

“But then I got better,” John reminded, his heart pounding. “Why not then...”

“Atkins died,” Freddie said simply, “and with all that happened... and revolution... I thought I would try to find them first and make sure they were fine and healthy before telling you. Otherwise... wouldn’t it be better not to know at all?”

John swallowed and shook his head, emotions creeping up on him more and more. “I don’t know,” he choked. “I don’t... But they’re ok, and they’re... they...”

“Oh, come here...,” Freddie whispered and took John in a tight embrace, “shh... it’s alright now, everything’s fine... we found them... and they’re yours... and healthy... and so, so beautiful, darling.”

“Daddy?” Luke tugged forcefully on Freddie’s hand. “Daddy cry? Why?”

But it was John, who answered. He picked the boy up and hugged him close, feeling the tiny warm body against his. His own blood. 

“Because daddy’s happy,” he said, and few more tears soaked into the fabric of Luke’s onesies. “Daddy’s happy...”


	47. Epilogue II. - Earth

“What the fuck, are you- Fuck!”

Brian looked up from his book just in time to see Roger running out from a pool and up the stairs on a terrace.

“Something wrong?”

“Fucking drone, that’s what!” Roger complained and shook his wet hair, angrily tying up his bathrobe. “They can’t get us on the ground, so they’re sending their fucking drones!”

Brian sighed. “Why does the world wish to see the one and only Roger Taylor in a swimming suit is a mystery to me.”

“Oh, piss off,” Roger hummed and headed to their private bar. “I need a drink. Want something? Gintonic? Vesper?”

“Surprise me,” Brian shrugged and returned to his book. The news about the drone weren’t unexpected, but that didn’t make them any less unpleasant. 

Five years ago, he and Roger landed near Hawaii and became an international sensation. Since then the Queen fever settled, but they remained relatively famous. Enough to be a grateful target for paparazzi, especially during a dull season. 

Every moment had to be cherished and protected. That’s why Brian bought Roger for his birthday this – their private holiday hovercraft. Over a thousand square feet of a luxurious suite, fully automatized kitchen, library, sauna, pool and a terrace garden with palm trees, flowerbeds and a fountain, all gently soaring above the warm waters of Mediterranean.  
Heaven. Or so they thought.

Roger returned with the drinks and dismissed the second chair under Brian’s parasol in favour of simply plopping down on his lover’s lap.

“Well, aren’t you getting heavy,” Brian chuckled and put his book aside. 

Since he’d been taken off of Queen’s alga diet, Roger had put on a few. That didn’t hurt him at all, but annoyed him at least as much as it amused Brian.

“Here’s the drink,” Roger huffed to earn a soft kiss of reconciliation. He got a tan too, Brian noticed, and over all looked dangerously attractive, blond hair slowly drying to form soft waves framing the angelic face. Even the silk bathrobe of gold and blue hugging Roger tightly made Brian’s mouth water. 

“What are you thinking about?” Roger asked with a teasing cheek. He knew damn well.

“About how gorgeous you are,” Brian said honestly. “And... how you block any blood from coming to my legs. Scoot.”

Roger made a face, but obediently got his own chair. “So?” he lifted his glass with a smile. “To what?”

“To an uninterrupted privacy,” Brian chuckled and downed at least a third of his glass straight away. Roger joined him.

They sat in silence, just holding hands, and listened to the sound of waves. The summer breeze brought an aroma of salt and seaweed and distant cries of some gulls.

“Do you think there are jellyfish?” Roger asked, looking over the sea.

“No idea. Why?”

“Just saw a picture the other day. I don’t like them.”

Brian chuckled and stretched his legs more comfortably. They had four more days here, then Jimmy’s birthday party, and then the holiday would be over, with Brian required back in Atlanta and Roger in London. Brian intended to make a most of these rare quiet days. After all... they deserved it. Life was good, but Brian couldn’t but wonder... One can never know what life brings, how could they?

The last five years had been full of twists and turns for the couple.

It all started very shortly after they got to Earth and went through the media frenzy. But then... Brian expected to resume his former duties as a captain, and a cold shower came. During a meeting with admiral Case, he was told, not unkindly, that though his service couldn’t be more exemplary and bravery and honour and bla bla bla, they could simply not accept him back into an active service. 

_“What?” Brian gasped and half stood from his chair. “No, you, sir, please, you can’t-“_

_“Brian, please – can I call you Brian? – you are an intelligent man and surely understand our reasons,” admiral Case sighed and gestured him to sit down. “Nobody is questioning your skills or enthusiasm. Personally, I’m convinced you would be overwhelmingly successful in a further myriad of missions.”_

_“Then let me-“_

_“But,” Case avoided Brian’s stare, checking if all the papers on his desk were aligned evenly, “there are certain facts we need to consider.”_

_“Like?” Brian asked coldly and didn’t even pretend to be polite._

_“Your status, Brian,” Case looked up. “There isn’t a child on Earth who wouldn’t hear your name. Since you returned from Queen, NASA got incredibly popular for young cadets. We must actually turn down applicants, the numbers at least quadrupled. And when it comes to funding from government and other institutions, well, I’ll cut it short – you’re way too valuable for us to risk your life during another mission.”_

_“You want me to be your poster boy?” Brian let out a breathy laugh. “Your mascot?”_

_“I wouldn’t call it like that.”_

_“Oh, I’m sorry, how would you call it?”_

_Case frowned. “You’ll be given an honorary title of vice admiral, and a position in the headquarters. The Chief Consultant for Extrasystemic Colonies. It comes with an office, a small department, and a salary of two hundred thousand per year. That’s a lot of money, Brian.”_

_“And my duties?” Brian asked, trying to feel hopeful. “Would I participate in projects concerning Queen? Further missions? The recreation of our connections?”_

_“Oh, God no, nothing like that. Your duties would be as needed. Mostly to represent-”_

_“In other words,” Brian got up, and his face darkened, “you’re giving me a made-up position with imaginary responsibilities. You place a bunch of money on the fact that I’m useless and think that I won’t notice? This is an insult! Do you know I can just, leave, don’t you? Leave NASA and tell everybody out in the open how you decided to screw me over. There are other organisations I can work for, as you damn well know. Would you like that?”_

_Case raised an eyebrow. “Of course, that’s an option. Though, allow me to present just one unrelated information - there’s the testimony of our psychologists,” he sighed, “and Brian, please, don’t make me to use it against you.”_

_Brian frowned. “What do you mean?”_

_“If you decide to leave, we would be forced to declare you psychologically unable to perform tasks under pressure. I have enough material to do just that. You past trauma, your bouts of depression, melancholy with unexpected triggers... I’m sure the media would love a heart-breaking story of a man who achieved such an unbelievable success and paid for it by his sanity.”_

_Brian wished more than anything to just punch somebody but held himself calm. He wouldn’t give Case the pleasure to see him squirm._

_“I knew a man like you once,” Brian said lightly. “Now he’s dead. A tragic accident.”_

_Case didn’t even move a muscle. “I’m sure it’s a charming story. So... do you accept our offer?”_

_Brian knew he didn’t really have any other choice, not really, unless he wanted one of the most powerful organisations on Earth to claim him mad. And what would happen to Roger?_

_“I’ll be delighted to accept, sir,” he said stiffly._

_“Oh, brilliant. Good night, vice admiral May, I’m looking forward to our further cooperation.”_

Later that day, Brian remembered, he came home, and Roger found him few hours later, on a sofa, staring into nothing.  
And it only spiralled from there. NASA and others made Brian’s and Roger’s schedule was bursting in its seems. Lectures, conferences, interviews, check-ups, meetings with important people, opening a bridge for god-knows-what reason, more interviews, celebratory parties... Brian felt himself getting further and further away from it all, some days too tired to even get up from the bed. Roger desperately tried to cover for him, to hold it all together, to do what NASA wanted – present Brian and himself as an ideal couple, a romantic victory of human intelligence, bravery, love and space industry over all odds. 

Always cheery, always smiling, always well-rested and perfect. He felt exhausted. 

Exhausted, lost, disappointed and he didn’t understand... And Brian could offer only a little support, little to none. But no, there was nothing wrong with him, Brian insisted, he was fine, he was fine, he was fine... None of Roger’s tears, no pleading helped to change that stubborn mind... and after several months, Roger, close to a complete breakdown, slowly resigned and reached out.  
To his surprise, he found all the door open for him, welcomed by everybody who was anybody. After all, he was the man from another planet, a face known all over the world, plus he was handsome, young, rich and charming. So, there it started. Coming home late, drunk or worse, often with a company. Brian said nothing, only watching it darkly from his distance, sinking into his melancholy. Everything finally escalated when Roger came home one morning to find all the locks exchanged, and Brian screaming at him to get the hell out of his sight and take his whores with him. The argument that followed took more than an hour, and paparazzi made sure not a soul in the world missed it. 

That was the lowest point, they both knew it. The perk of a rock bottom is, however, that you can’t stay there forever, and the only way out is up. Roger stormed off to a hotel, and Brian spent nearly two days standing by a window, not eating, not sleeping, watching the driveway, waiting for Roger to come back. But he didn’t. And Brian realized he needed help.

The picture Brian made now hardly fit into the NASA’s PR agenda, but the day Roger appeared at the doorstep of his room in a private sanatorium, holding a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates, marked their new beginning.

Brian started his new job in Atlanta, and it didn’t go half bad. Even though his actual duties were virtually non-existent, his experiences and famous face helped to create a connection between the office workers of NASA and the actual astronauts out there. His word began to hold a great value in whatever dispute or misunderstanding was currently going on, and in time he got invited to more and more important decisions – and was listened to. 

All this and Roger’s new-found presence in his life as if poured a fresh blood in Brian’s veins. He felt strong, happy and unafraid of anything, even enrolled himself in a university to get a PhD. to participate in NASA’s research programs. As he explained to Roger, one does not need to fly around to discover all the mysteries of space.

Roger only smiled. He’d tried to revive his career as a dentist, but that didn’t go well, as the International Association of Medical Professionals refused to accept him unless he presented a diploma from his university.

_“... you know I’m sorts of from a different planet, right?”_

_“We accept documents sent by post, if that would be more convenient, Mr. Taylor.”_

Well, screw it. He decided to study biology instead, fascinated by all those animals and plants. Soon, he would get his bachelor’s degree. 

 

“Earth calls Brian...,” Roger’s voice brought Brian back to reality, “hey, do you remember that interview we gave about two weeks ago? About our music and stuff?”

“I remember,” Brian sipped on his cocktail and picked a small strawberry from a bowl of fruit on their table. “What about it?”

“What if we do it again?” Roger got up from the chair to hug Brian from behind. “Not interview I mean, but... to play music? Again?”

“Play music?” Brian frowned and tilted his head back to look Roger in the eyes. 

Roger fed him another strawberry. “Why not? We’re good and... it’s fun... and if I’m to be known for something I’d rather it would be something I’m good at. Not just shagging the right guy who took me to his planet. I’m not an exotic fish in a terrarium. I want us to play together again, for people.”

“Aquarium, not terrarium,” Brian mindlessly corrected him, thinking. “I... I just... it’s not that easy, Rog. You do whatever you want, of course, and I’ll be only happy for you, but... it’s not easy.”

“What’s not easy?” 

“I mean...,” Brian got up, and walked a few steps away. For some reason, his heart fluttered at the mention of playing music. But this was silly. He had his job and fought hard to make himself relevant. And music... that was something from the past, something... he used to do. Back then.

Brian was standing at the edge of the terrace, staring at the sea.

He remembered the moment he decided to learn how to play, so long ago. And all those hours he spent... locked in his room... strumming and dreaming of a great life ahead... Almost like a fate, really.

“I can’t, Rog,” he whispered. “I can’t do that, not again.”

Roger frowned, walked over to Brian and softly touched his shoulder. “What’s going on, Bri? You look like you want to jump in there. I know you were happy when you played, but... You haven’t touched a guitar since... well, since we’re here. Why?”

Brian swallowed sudden tears and tried to master the heart beating in his chest so erratically. 

“I love you,” Roger’s soft words almost blended with the murmur of the sea, “I love you, and I know you. What is this about?”

It took a while, but Roger didn’t push. And after several quiet minutes, Brian looked at him. The same face he’d made during the sanatorium visit. Afraid, vulnerable, and overall loving.

“You’re right,” Brian said, touching his husband’s hand, but looking away to the sea. “You’re right, I... I’m happy when I play. I was happy when I was a child, and played for my parents, back home. I was happy when I found Tim and played with him at MBB. I was happy when I met John, I was happy on Queen when we played together, all four of us... And I lost my family, Tim and Freddie and John, and it’s all just too... way too much.”

“You’re not going to lose me just because we play together, Bri.” Roger touched his chin and turned Brian to face him. “That’s a stupid superstition for someone so smart.” He smiled. “I thought you figured, you’re never to get rid of me.”

Brian shook his head. “It’s not that, Rog. Just... it’s easier to spend my life exploring the space, than play music. That... music comes from within and if I play... it all comes out, all of it. And I don’t want it to, I can’t, I... it still hurts, Rog, and I don’t think...,” Brian swallowed, “I want to forget, everything, not bring it out for everyone to see.”

“Maybe it’s time to do just that,” Roger cupped Brian’s face and led him into a long, soft kiss, “Bri... do you think they would want to be forgotten? Maybe it’s time to bring it out, all of it, or at least some of it. All your life you’re letting things fester inside, and how did that work?”

“Roger, please, don’t...”

“Play for me?” Roger’s blue eyes looked deep in Brian’s. “Play for me tonight?”

It took a long time before Brian answered. “Yes, Rog, I’ll... play for you.”

They melted in an embrace, and a long, loving kiss. They couldn’t get enough of each other, no matter how long and how much they were together, it was never enough, how could it be.

“I want you...,” Brian whispered and his kiss got deeper and hungrier, “you’re my soul, muse, my conscience, my everything, Rog, I want you...”

Roger grinned inside the kiss. “Am I your better half? Last time you said that.”

“For sure you’re my better half.”

“And you love me?”

“I do.”

“And will you fuck me in the bed, whirlpool, or against the counter?”

That technical problem made Brian slowly pull himself away, thinking. A mildly wicked smile slowly appeared on his face.

Roger grinned, satisfied with his work. “Well? What do you say?”

“I say we go inside and get inspired?” Brian said and his hand already slipped down Roger’s back on his arse. “Even though... I can just stop controlling myself here and now, the rail looks firm enough, and-“

“FUCKING DRONES!”

 

Brian groaned when his phone rang in the middle of the night. Blindly, he reached for it, determined to stop the ringing and go back to sleep, but the caller’s ID caught his attention.

“Briiiiii....,” Roger whined and squirmed next to him. “What the fuck...”

“Hello?” Brian picked the call up, earning another groan from Roger. 

_“Well, hi there. You sound sleepy.”_

“I’ve got three in the morning here, so this better be worth it.”

_“Will you set your missile of a husband against me?”_

“I just might,” Brian grumbled. “So? What’s new in Atlanta? Do they want me there sooner? Something happened?”

_“Something happened, Brian, and they want you, but not in Atlanta.”_

“Then where?”

_“Pack your bags, take that blond alien with you, and get your ass to the Moon, asap. Fecundity Spaceport. There are two tickets booked for you on a transport to Proxima Centauri, you’re expected day after tomorrow.”_

“What?” Brian sat up so fast the silk sheets slid down on the floor.

Roger frowned, now fully awake. “Bri, what’s going on?”

_“There’s going to be a huge conference, all the experts and admiralty.”_

“But why? Is it a secret?”

_“Well, technically, yes, huge secret. But I guess I could make an exception. Just promise me to act surprised on the meeting.”_

“I promise,” Brian said immediately, trying to hide the eagerness in his voice. “What is it?”

_“Ten minutes ago, we received a coded message from the outer space. I can play it for you.”_

Brian put the phone on speaker. “Yes, please, come on!” 

For a moment, there was nothing but silence and then... the recording started.

_“HELLO THIS IS... JOHN DEACON OF QUEEN HERE... “_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! If you have any questions, suggestions, requests or ideas for the story, please, let me know in the comments.  
> Also let me know if you think of some tags I should add to this story.  
> Have a great day!
> 
>  PS: For plot purposes I decided not to add time dilation factor into my space travels. So the year of travel through space means also a year on Earth. Please, do not stone me for this, my beloved astrophysics nerds.  
> \- Titlark


End file.
